!ttmn.!!mnr!!ni 


11 


BM  535  .T69  1890 

Toy,  Crawford  Howell,  1836- 

1919. 
Judaism  and  Christianity 


Judaism  and  Christianity 


A   SKETCH 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THOUGHT  FROM  OLD 
TESTAMENT  TO  NEW  TESTAMENT 


CRAWFORD  HOWELL  TOY 

PROFESSOR  IN   HARVARD  UNIVERSITY 


BOSTON 
LITTLE,    BROWN,  AND   COMPANY 

1890 


Copyright,  1890, 
By  Ckawfokd  Howell  Toy. 


janibtisitD  Prrss: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Camukidge. 


PREFACE. 


'T^HE  present  voliiiiie  was  begun  as  a  continuation 
of  my  "  Quotations  in  the  New  Testament," 
with  the  purpose  of  giving  an  orderly  view  of  the 
development  of  religious  thought  apparent  in  the 
way  in  which  Old  Testament  passages  are  inter- 
preted and  used  by  New  Testament  writers.  On 
further  consideration  of  the  subject,  however,  I 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  this  end  would  be 
better  gained  by  a  general  historical  survey  of  the 
period  reaching  from  the  distinct  legal  organiza- 
tion of  the  Jewish  people  to  the  close  of  the  New 
Testament  Canon.  In  so  large  a  field  I  have  been 
obliged  to  confine  myself  to  the  discussion  of  gen- 
eral ethical-religious  ideas,  omitting  many  details 
which  might  properly  have  been  introduced  but  for 
lack  of  space ;  and  this  condensation  will  not  be 
without  advantage  if  it  helps  to  secure  clearness  of 
outline  without  the  sacrifice  of  anything  essential  to 
the  discussion.  For  the  same  reason  —  nnmely,  lack 
of  space  —  I  have  not  gone  into  full  critical  exami- 
nation of  the  Biblical  and  Apocryphal  books  which 


vi  PREFACE. 

have  furnished  the  material  for  my  discussion,  but 
have  contented  myself  with  brief  indications  of 
the  grounds  of  my  chronological  classification.  For 
details  on  this  point  I  refer  to  the  well-known 
works  of  Reuss,  Kuenen,  Stade,  Weiss,  Meyer,  and 
others.  I  felt  doubtful  about  inserting  so  meagre 
an  outline  as  1  have  given  of  the  subject  of  the 
Introduction,  —  a  subject  that  richly  deserves  a 
separate  treatise ;  but  on  the  whole  it  seemed 
better  to  treat  it  even  very  briefly  than  to 
omit  it  altogether.  Among  works  bearing  on 
this  subject  may  be  mentioned  Bagehot's  "  Physics 
and  Politics,"  Kuenen's  "National  Religions  and 
Universal  Religions, "  and  W.  Robertson  Smith's 
"  Religion    of    the   Semites." 

I  need  hardly  say  that  I  do  not  claim  absolute 
correctness  for  my  results.  In  the  treatment  of  so 
long  a  period  of  history,  for  the  construction  of 
which  the  data  are  sometimes  lacking  and  often 
uncertain,  one  can  hope  only  for  an  approximation 
to  the  truth,  and  I  shnll  be  grateful  for  any  criti- 
cisms which  may  lead  to  a  correcter  or  completer 
interpretation  of  the  facts. 

C.  II.  T. 

Camuridge,  IMass., 

October,    1890. 


TABLE    OF   CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 

Page 

On  the  General  Laws  of  the  Advance   frou  National  to 

Universal  Religions 1-46 

I.   THE   SOCIAL   BASIS   OF   RELIGION 1-G 

§  1.   Social  Character  of  Religion 1,  2 

1.  Religion  a  product  of  human  tliouglit,  1. —  2.  Con- 
tent of  the  religious  consciousness,  2. 

§  2.  Growth  of  Society 2-6 

1.  General  laws  of  growth,  arrest,  retrogression,  and 
decay,  2,  3.  —  2.  Application  of  these  laws  to 
society,  3,  4.  —  3.  Relation  of  size  of  commu- 
nity to  law  of  growth,  4,  5.  —  4.  Religion  sub- 
ject to  the  laws  of  social  growth,  5,  G. 

II.   GENERAL  CONDITIONS  OF  RELIGIOUS  PROGRESS     6-39 

§  I.  Formation  of  Communities 7-11 

I.  Organized  social  life  the  condition  of  the  devel- 
opment of  a  religion,  7-9.  —  2.  Nations  formed 
by  combinations  of  smaller  communities,  and  na- 
tional religions  by  aggregation  of  tribal  faiths, 
9-11. 

§  2.  Internal  Development  of  Ideas 11-31 

1.  Constant  refashioning  of  religions  ideas  in  a  grow- 
ing community,  11, 12. —2.  Interaction  between 
the  different  elements  of  social  thought;  influ- 
ence of  art  and  politics  on  religion, "12,  13.— 
3.  Religion  modified  and  developed  by  science, 
14-16.  —  4.  Religion  and  ethics,  their  indepen- 
dent developments  and  mutual  influence,  16-20. 
5.  Content  of  tlie  religious  sentiment  deter- 
mined by  science  and  ethics,  20.  21. 

§  3.  Great  Men 21-26 

1.  Great  men  a  necessity  in  social  progress,  21,  22.  — 

2.  They  are  the  product  of  their  times,  22,  23.  — 

3.  There  is  something  inexplicable  in  them,  23, 


Viii  CONTENTS. 

Page 
2i.  _4.  They  give  a  new  unity  to  thonglit  and 
society,  U,  25.-5.  Tiie  part  tliey  have  played 
in  the  establishment  of  religious,  25,  20. 

§4.  ExTEUNAL  Conditions 20-30 

i.  The  extent  of  the  religious  influence  exerted  by  one 
nation  on  another  depends  in  part  on  closeness  of 
intercourse,  26,  27.  —  2.  Such  influence  recipro- 
cal, and  the  more  developed  the  religious  culture 
the  greater  its  influence,  27,  28.  —  3.  Ett'ect  of  ex- 
citement of  thought,  28.  —  4.  Borrowing  of  ideas 
is  direct  or  indirect,  conscious  or  unconscious, 
2S,  2y.  —  5.  It  is  determined  by  a  nation's  ca- 
pacity for  assimilation,  29,  30. 

§  5.  The  General  Lines  of  Pkogress 30-30 

1.  Abandonmeutoflocalusages,  30-32.  — 2.  Broaden- 
ing of  ideas,  32.  —  3.  Selection  of  a  new  idea  as 
basis  of  organization,  32-34.  —  4.  Besponse  to 
the  demands  of  the  times,  34,  35.-5.  An  abso- 
lutely universal  religion  has  not  yet  appeared, 
35,  30. 

§  0.  Extra-national  Extension 30-39 

1.  There  is  necessary  an  idea  broader  than  national 
areas,  30,  37.  —  2.  There  must  be  a  wide  social 
unity,  37.  —  3.  And  religious  emptiness  in  tlie 
areas  conquered,  37,  3S.  — 4.  The  conquering 
religion  must  offer  what  is  needed,  38,  39. 

Ill    THE  ACTUAL  HISTORICAL  RESULTS 39-40 

§  1.  The  Universal  Religions 39,40 

Conditions  to  be  fulfilled  numerous.  Number  of  uni- 
versal religions  small.  Rise  of  Buddhism,  Chris- 
tianity, and  Islam. 

§  2.  Stunted  and  Arrested  Growths 40-41 

1.  Stoicism  and  other  philosophical  systems,  their  lack 
of  theological  framework,  41,  42.  —  2.  Confu- 
cianism.—  3.  The  old  Egyptian  religion,  bound 
to   the   soil.     Mazdeism,    its  lack    of   clearness, 

42,  43.  —  4.  National  and  international  churches, 

43,  44. 

§  3.  National  and  Tribal  Religions 44 

rucrtness  of  the  groat  mass  of  the  religions  of  the 
w<u-ld. 

§  4.  The  Oiitlook 44-10 

1.  Signs  that  a  few  great  religions  will  in  time  control 
tlie  world,  44,  45.  —  2.  Superiority  of  Christian- 
ity, 45.  —  3.  Improbable  that  other  religions  will 
survive  as  systems,  45. — 4.  Probable  modifica- 
tion of  Christ ianitv  in  the  future,  45,  40. 


CONTENTS. 


JUDAISM  AND  CHRISTIANITY. 

Page 

Results  of  Israelitish  Thought  up  to  Ezra's  Time     .     .     .  47-51 
Practical  Monotheism.      Souud  system  of  practical  social  ethics. 
Organization  of  public  worship.     Messianic  hope. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  LITERATURE 52-76 

§  1.  The  Literary  Development 52-68 

1.  Prophetic  writings.    Decline  of  prophecy,  53.    Malachi 

ritualistic,  53.  Zecliariah  and  Joel  predict  the  revi- 
val of  nationality,  54. 

2.  Rewriting  of  history  from  the  ritualistic  point  of  view  : 

Chronicles,  Ezra,  Neliemiah,  55. 

3.  Chronicles  ;  its  embellishments.    The  romances  :  Jonah, 

Esther,  Judith,  Tobit.     55-58. 

4.  Wisdom-books ;    their  practical  character.     Proverbs. 

Ecclesiastes ;  its  philosophical  scepticism.  Wisdom 
of  Solomon ;  its  Platonic  and  Stoic  elements.  Wisdom 
of  the  Son  of  Sirach  ;  its  Jewish  tone.    58-60. 

5.  Liturgical   literature.      The  book   of  Psalms.     Enig- 

matical character  of  the  Song  of  Songs.     61,  62. 

6.  Apocalypses ;  their  origin  and  form.     Daniel.     Enoch. 

Sibylline  Oracles.  Baruch.  Assumption  of  Moses. 
Psalter  of  Solomon.  Book  of  Jubilees.  Second 
Esdras.     62-67. 

7.  Historical   and   theological  works.      Maccabees.     Jo- 

sephus.     Philo.     67,  68. 
§  2.  The  Canoxs 68-76 

1.  Origin  of  the  canonical  idea.     68,  69. 

2.  Beginning  of  canonization.     The  Tora  or  Law,  its  his- 

torical development.     69-71. 

3.  The  second  or  prophetic  canon.     71-73. 

4.  The  third  or  non-prophetic  canon,  the  grounds  of  choice 

of  its  content.  Palestinian  and  Alexandrian  canons. 
Uncanonized  books.     73-76. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  DOCTRINE  OE   GOD 77-140 

The  monotheistic  idea  firmly  established  in  fifth  century  b.  c, 
but  not  theoretically  complete.  Elements  of  the  theistie 
conception.     77,  78. 


CONTENTS. 

1.  Governmental  side:   su])reniacY  of  God,  —  his  providential 

care  for  men,  and  for  inanimate  and  brute  nature;  Iiis 
special  relation  to  Israel ;  his  justice,  how  defined  by  theo- 
logical theories  in  0.  T.  and  N.  T.     78-83. 

2.  Love  as  a  divine  attribute,  —  historical  growth  of  the  con- 

ception; Greek  influence.     83-86. 

3.  Spiritual  relation  of  God  to  the  individual  man ;  conception 

of  God  as  pure  spirit.     86-89. 

4.  Hypostatic  differences  in  the  divine  nature.     89-121. 

Hypostatizing  tendency  in  O.  T. :  angel  of  the  pres- 
ence ;  angel  of  the  name  ;  angel  of  Yahwe.     90,  91. 

Hypostatical  development  of  spirit,  92-96 ;  of  wisdom, 
96-103;  of  word:  Philo,  N.  T.,  103-121. 

5.  Relation  of  God's  self-manifestation  to  natural  law;  N.  T. 

miracles.     121-127- 

6.  Authority  of  the  Scriptures  :  inspiration  ;  attitude  of  N.  T. 

writers  toward  O.  T. ;  Jewish  critical  metiiods;  use  of 
O.  T.  in  N.  T.  ;  quotations.     127-140. 


CHAPTER  III. 

SUBORDINATE   SUPERNATURAL   BEINGS 141-172 

1.  Survivals  from  early  animistic  beliefs  :  teraphiin  ;  demons ; 

magic;  Azazel.     141-144. 

2.  Spirits,  —  their  origin;  their  subordination  to  God.     144- 

146. 

3.  Angels,  —  their  origin;  historical  development  ;  Persian  in- 

fluence; position  in  N.  T.     146-154. 

4.  Evil  spirits  :  Satan  ;  his  a])pcarance  in  O.  T.  and  a[)0cryphal 

books ;  his  role  as  tempter.  Fallen  angels.  Leviathan, 
Behemoth,  Raliab.  The  Satan  of  N.  T.  Origin  of  the 
figure  of  Satan  ;  later  Persian  influence.  Historical  devel- 
opment of  evil  spirits;  demoniacal  possession.     154-172. 


CIIAPTEll   IV. 

MAN 173-290 

1.  Constitution  of  man:  body  and  soul.     0.  T.  use  of  terms 
body,  soul,  spirit,  heart,  reins.     N.  T.  use  of  body,  flesh, 
_       heart,  spirit,  mind.     Not  a  trichotomy.     173-182. 
pr^alure  and  origin  of  sin.     183-220. 

O.  T.  conception  of  sin  ;  general  development  of  the 
idea.  Two  elements  of  consciousness  of  sin.  Historical 
development:  period  of  Judges  and  David;  of  prc-cxilian 


CONTENTS.  XI 

Page 

propliets  ;  of  Jeremiah  ;  of  the  Levitical  law  ;  of  the  Book 
of  Psalms.  Consciousness  of  righteousness.  Gradual  deep- 
ening of  the  sense  of  sin.     183-193. 

O.  T.  view  of  origin  of  sin.  Its  reticence.  Narrative 
in  Gen.  iii., — its  date;  its  design;  assumes  human  incli- 
nation to  sin.  The  serpent  in  the  narrative,  —  a  rational 
beast ;  probably  mythical  in  origin ;  identified  with  Satan, 
not  in  0.  T.,  but  in  Wisdom  of  Solomon.  The  narrative 
in  Genesis  not  an  allegory.  Its  representation  of  death. 
193-205. 

Conception  of  sin  in  ajjocrvphal  books  and  Philo.  205, 
206. 

N.  T.  representation  of  sin ;  its  practical  interest  pro- 
duces reticence  as  to  questions  of  origin  of  sin  and  of  con- 
sequences of  Adam's  transgression;  Paul's  treatment  of 
this  last  point ;  role  assigned  to  the  woman.     206-211. 

N.  T.  view  of  corruption  of  human  nature  :   Synoptic 
Gospels,  James,  Pastoral  Epistles,  Paul,  Ephesians  and  Co- 
lossians.  Fourth  Gospel.    No  gnostic  asceticism.    211-220. 
Removal  of  sin.     220-233. 

Prophetic  view  of  expiation.  Sin  atoned  for  by  the  sin- 
ner's suffering.  Vicarious  human  suffering :  origin  of  the 
idea;  its  treatment  by  the  exilian  Isaiab.     220-225. 

Formulation  of  idea  of  ceremonial  atonement  in  the 
Law;  its  restricted  character.     225-227- 

Appeal  to  the  mercy  of  God.  Human  mediation  for 
sin.  Negative  attitude  of  prophets  toward  sacrificial  ritual. 
227-231. 

Teaching  of  the  extra-canonical  books.     231. 

Point  of  view  of  Jesus  that  of  the  pre-exilian  prophets 
spiritualized.     The  early  disciples.     Paul's  conception  of 
the  sacrificial  nature  of  the  Messiah's  death.     231-233.  / 
0.  T.  conception  of  righteousness.     233-216. 

0.  T.  conception  of  moral  goodness :  prophetic  standard  ; 
Deuteronomy ;  the  "  new  heart ; "  two  tendencies  ;  idea  of 
inward  purity  in  the  Psalms.  Twofold  view  of  the  source 
of  righteousness  :  man's  will  and  God's  help.     233-237. 

Nomism.  Introduction  of  the  complete  Law.  Inter- 
nal and  external  causes  of  the  Jewish  nomistic  organiza- 
tion. Strength  and  weakness  of  nomism :  precision  of 
religious  life ;  pride  ;  externalism  ;  casuistry  ;  depression 
of  spirituality.  General  moral  influence  of  the  nomistic 
system  in  Judaism  and  in  Christianity.  237-246. 
Succeeding  development  of  the  idea  of  righteousness.  246- 
266. 

Synagogues;  their  origin  and  influence.     246-248. 

Parties.     Tendencies  formulated  in  the  Greek  period. 


CONTENTS. 

Tlie  Pliarisecs,  — tlirir  origin;  representatives  of  broader 
nationalism;  acceptance  of  new  doctrines;  possible  Greek 
influence.  The  Sadducees  ;  their  origin,  beliefs,  and  influ- 
ence. The  Essenes,  —  their  peculiarities  ;  'their  efi"cct  on 
the  general  Jewish  life ;  traces  of  the  part)'  in  the  N.  T. 
The  Zealots.     248-258. 

The  Sanhedrin.  The  legal  schools ;  greatness  of  their 
influence.  Sayings  of  Simon  and  Autigonus  ;  Stoic  influ- 
ence. Kivalry  between  Pharisees  and  Sadducees  repre- 
sents in  one  aspect  the  struggle  between  progressive 
noniism  and  conservative  nationalism,  in  another  aspect 
the  conflict  between  Jewish  and  foreign  ideas.  Hellenism, 
though  it  could  not  crush  the  Jewish  religion,  impressed 
itself  on  Jewish  thought.  Illustrations  from  the  teaching 
of  the  lawyers,  especially  Hillel  and  Shammai.  Eeligious 
breadth  of  Ilillel.  258-260. 
N.  T.  conception  of  righteousness.     206-290. 

Teaching  of  Jesus  :  he  recognized  the  Law ;  spiritual 
cliaracter  of  his  nomism  ;  source  of  righteousness  in  the 
soul  itself.  The  early  Church,  —  stress  laid  on  sincerity 
rather  than  on  spirituality ;  relation  of  Jesus  to  man's 
righteousness  scarcely  touched  on.     266-271. 

Paul's  doctrine  of  imputed  righteousness, — recom- 
mended to  him  by  his  own  experience ;  not  alien  to  the 
thought  of  the  time.  0.  T.  basis  of  the  doctrine  ;  ap]ilica- 
tion  to  Jesus  suggested  by  Paul's  high  conception  of  the 
functions  of  the  Messiah.  Paul's  doctrine  of  faith.  271- 
275. 

Opposition  to  Paul's  apparent  antinomianism.  His  re- 
ply brings  out  the  spiritual  side  of  his  idea :  disappearance 
of  desire  to  sin  ;  faith  not  merely  intellectual  belief;  appeal 
to  the  power  of  an  ideal ;  indwelling  of  God  in  the  soul; 
the  death  of  Christ  the  condition  of  salvation.  Summing 
up  of  Paul's  doctrine.     275-281. 

Subsequent  history  of  the  idea  of  righteousness  in  the 
N.  T.:  Ephcsiaus,  Colossians,  and  First  Peter  substantially 
Pauline ;  O.  T.  jjoint  of  view  iu  Hebrews  ;  universality  of 
Pirst  Timothy  ;  Pauline  tone  of  Second  Timothy  and  Titus  ; 
in  the  Fourth  Gospel  and  First  John  righteousness  is  a 
divinely  created  light-nature.  Three  conceptions  in  N.  T. 
idea  of  righteousness :  personal  goodness,  imputed  good- 
ness, transformation  of  soul.     2S1-2S5. 

Tlu'  insuflieieney  of  the  Jewish  national  nomism.  Eff"ect 
of  the  teaching  of  Jesus,  and  of  the  systems  of  Paul  and  the 
Fourth  Gf)spel.  Ijater  history  of  Jewish  nomism.  Min- 
gling of  uomistic  and  autiuomistic  elements  in  Judaism  and 
in  Christianity.     286-289. 


CONTENTS.  XUl 

Page 
Contrast   between   tlie   outward   metliod    of    attaining 
rigliteousness  through  a  vicarious  sacrifice,  and   tlie   in- 
ward method  of  transformation  of  soul.     290. 


CHAPTER   V. 

ETHICS 291-302 

Ethical  discussion  in  the  Bible  practical,  not  philosophical.    291, 
292. 

1.  Jewish   moral   code  of  5th  century  b.  c.   purely  national. 

292,  293. 

2.  Greek    period.       Broader   ethical  tone  of  Wisdom-books. 

293,  291. 

3.  Ethics  of  Jesus;    its  religious  sanctions.     The  golden  rule. 

294-297. 

4.  Etliics  of  the  Epistles.     Attitude  toward  unbelievers.      Cos- 

mopolitan tendency.     297,  298. 

5.  Biblical  view  of  the  aim  of  life.     Egoism.     Ethical  defect  of 

N.  T.  speculative  rather  than  practical.     298-300. 
G.  P'stinctive  spirit  of  N.  T.  ethics.      Ethical  power  of  the 
Church.     Influence  of  Christianity  on  the  ethical  life  of 
the  world.     300-302. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD 303-371 

The  conception  of  the  kingdom  of  God  a  characteristic  of 
Jewish  thought;  its  four  stadia.  The  Jewish  national  hope  ; 
its  origin  in  Jewish  power  of  persistence  and  of  religious 
organization.  The  idea  of  a  national  covenant  with  God  ; 
its  growth  and  its  consequences.  The  history  of  the  na- 
tional hope  is  the  history  of  the  national  thought.  303- 
308. 

1.  The  pre-proplietic,  non-etliical  period  ;  its  preparatory  char- 

acter.    308,  309. 

2.  The  pre-exilian   and    exilian   prophetic   period.      Hope   of 

political  and  moral-religious  prosperity  in  Amos,  Hosea, 
Isaiah,  Micah,  Nahum,  Zephaniah,  Habakknk,  Jeremiah, 
Ezekiel,  the  exilian  Isaiah,  Mic.  vii.,  Deut.  xxviii.-xxx.,  1 
Kings  viii.     309-312. 

3.  The  post-exilian  prophetic  period.     Ritual  tinge  in  Haggai, 

Zecliariah,  Malachi.  Cosmopolitan  spirit  of  Isa.  ii.  2-4, 
xix.  18-25.     312-314. 

4.  Legal  period.     Joel,  the  second  Zecliariah.     The  king  as 

national  deliverer,  in  Ezekiel,  Jer.  xxxiii.,   2  Sam.    vii.. 


CONTENTS. 

Zech.  vi.,  Mic.  v.  2-G,  Isa.  xi.  1-9,  ix.  6,  7,  Zecli.  ix.  9. 
This  prophetic  uatioual  liope  traceable  in  the  later  litera- 
ture down  to  the  begiiiuiug  of  our  era.  314-319. 
Greek  and  Roman  period.  Desire  for  deliverance  intensi- 
fied by  national  suffering.  Apocalyptic  works  :  the  national 
future  in  the  early  Maccabean  period  (Daniel,  Sibylline 
Oracles,  Enoch);  in  the  Roman  period  (Psalier  of  Solo- 
mon, Sibylline  Oracles,  Enoch-Parables) ;  in  later  literature 
(Assumption  of  Moses,  Jubilees,  Rliilo).  Moral  progress 
visiljle  in  non-apocalyptic  writings.  Summing  up  of  Mes- 
sianic material  in  pre-Christian  literature.  Condition  of 
membership  in  the  new  community.  Other  points  of 
popular  belief  mentioned  in  N.  T.  Deep  Messianic  feeling 
in  Palestine  at  beginning  of  first  century  of  our  era. 
319-331. 
Profounder  view  of  the  political-religious  situation  at  be- 
ginning of  first  century,  —  weakening  of  desire  for  politi- 
cal sovereignty ;  recognition  of  necessity  for  moral  re- 
form. Appearance  of  John  the  Baptist,  -^  his  prophetic 
character;  nature  of  his  reform.  Desire  for  i-eform  felt 
tliroughout  the  GrsBco-Romau  world.  Peculiarity  and 
advantage  of  the  Jewish  reform-movement  of  tliis  period. 
331-339. 

Work  of  Jesus.  He  begins  apparently  as  disciple  of  John. 
Moral-spiritual  character  of  his  movement,  —  it  was  the 
summing-up  of  0.  T.  and  N.  T.  His  teaching  stands 
apart  from  the  current  political  and  ecclesiastical  Messi- 
anic ideas  of  the  time :  stress  laid  by  him  on  moral- 
spiritual  side  of  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  the  public  entry 
into  Jerusalem  ;  he  was  looked  on  as  politically  unimpor- 
tant by  Roman  and  Jewish  authorities;  doubtful  whether 
he  intended  his  teaching  to  be  limited  to  tlie  Jews  ;  cnn- 
flictir:g  nature  of  the  testimony  ;  he  attempted  no  separate 
organization  of  his  disciples.     339-3.50. 

His  conception  of  the  outcome  of  his  movement.  First, 
did  he  regard  himself  as  the  promised  Messiah?  The 
incident  at  Ca;sarea  Philippi.  How  he  looked  on  his  own 
death.  Conception  of  his  mission  suggested  liy  the  title 
"Son  of  Man."     350-3.55. 

His  idea  of  the  destiny  of  the  world.  Rei)resentation  in 
the  Synoptics  that  he  would  come  in  person  to  hold  a 
final  judgment.  Facts  going  to  show  that  he  held  such 
a  view.  Facts  opposed  to  such  a  supposition.  His  moral 
power  independent  of  his  opinions  on  this  point.  The  es- 
cliatological  discourses  in  the  Synoptics.    355-302. 

Ciiristian  conception  of  the  kingdom  of  God  in  the  first 
century :  James,  2  Thcssalonians,  1  Coriuthiaus.    Gradual 


CONTENTS. 

disappearance  of  the  old  Israelitisli  conception.  Attempts 
to  define  the  time  of  the  second  coming  of  Christ.  De- 
struction of  Jerusalem  looked  on  as  turning-point.  Over- 
throw of  the  Roman  empire  regarded  as  necessary.  Kepre- 
sentatiou  iu  the  N.  T.  Apocalypse;  in  2  Thessalonians. 
362-366. 

Outward  organization  of  the  Church ;  change  in  the 
principle  of  membership  introduced  by  Paul.  Paul's 
ci-eative  dogmatic  work.  Dogma  inevitable  ;  its  uuspirit- 
ual  influence.  Christianity  the  fusion  of  two  great  masses 
of  human  thought ;  how  far  it  achieved  unity  iu  the  world. 
366-371. 


CHAPTER  YII. 

ESCHATOLOGY 372-411 

Value  and  interest  of  eschatological  ideas.     372. 

1.  Pinal  form  of  earthly  kingdom  of  God  iu  N.  T.  Apocalypse. 

Its  sources:  Ezekiel,  Isaiah,  Enoch.  Origin  of  the  con- 
ception of  two  judgments.  Whether  Persian  influence  is 
recognizable.  The  details  belong  to  the  thought  of  the 
times ;  the  Jewish  idea  adopted  by  Christianity,  but  grad- 
ually modified.  Its  moral  intinence.  The  Church's  con- 
ception of  the  reign  of  Christ.     373-377. 

2.  The  doctrine  of  immortality.     O.  T.  idea  of  the  future  life. 

Decline  of  necromancy  ;  indiff'erence  of  the  shades.  O.  T. 
passages  supposed  to  teach  immortality.  O.  T.  idea  of 
the  other  life  belongs  to  the  old-Semitic  conception ;  this 
perhaps  exi)licable  from  the  character  of  the  Semitic  mind. 
Whether  the  rise  of  the  Jewish  belief  in  immoriality  can 
be  referred  to  the  growth  of  spiritual  feeling;  first  dis- 
tinct statement  of  the  belief  is  found  iu  Wisdom  of  Solo- 
mon ;  contrast  between  this  book  and  Ecclesiastes  and 
Ecclesiasticus  ;  probable  Alexandrian  Jewish-Greek  origin 
of  the  doctrine.     377-388. 

3.  The  doctrine  of  resurrection.     Examination  of  0.  T.  pas- 

sages supposed  to  teach  it.  Egyptian  and  Hindu  ideas. 
Persian  doctrine;  probably  adopted  in  modified  form  by 
the  Jews ;  they  held  at  first  to  a  partial,  afterward  to  a 
general  resurrection.  How  far  the  belief  iu  a  general  resur- 
rection prevailed  in  the  Church  of  the  first  century.  388- 
395. 

4.  The  doctrine  of  a  final  judgment.    Idea  of  divine  retribution 

universal.  Its  progress  along  three  lines :  (1)  etiiical ; 
(2)  from  individualism  to  nationalism  ;  (3)  from  conception 
of  earihly  to  that  of  extra-earthly  judgment :  the  Jewish 


vi  CONTENTS. 

idea  of  an  earlLly  judgment  of  all  nations  b}'  Yaliwe  modi- 
fied by  the  introduction  of  two  articles  of  faith,  the  expec- 
tation of  a  personal  Messiah  and  the  belief  in  immortality. 
Assignment  of  ofiice  of  judge  to  Messiah  in  Euoch-Para- 
bles  and  N.  T.  ;  origin  of  this  idealization,  whether 
Christian.  Immortality  in  connection  with  judgment  in 
Enoch-Parables  and  N.  T. ;  double  sense  of  the  expres- 
sions "this  age"  and  "  the  age  to  come."  Christianity, 
in  accepting  the  doctrine  of  judgment  from  Judaism,  sub- 
stituted the  Church  for  the  nation.  395-404. 
5.  Reconstruction  of  the  doctrine  of  the  future  life.  Rep- 
resentation in  O.  T.  and  Enocli.  Origin  of  Jewish 
conception  of  rewards  and  punishments  after  death.  Rep- 
resentation of  future  punishment  in  N.  T.  Duration  of 
punishment  in  N.  T.  The  future  abode  of  the  righteous : 
the  earth  and  the  new  Jerusalem  ;  the  Eden  garden  of 
Genesis  ;  paradise  ;  heaven.  Condition  of  men  between 
death  and  judgment,  in  Enoch  and  N.  T. ;  annihilation; 
future  probation.  Idea  of  moral  probation  in  the  Bible 
modified  by  that  of  final  judgment.     404-413. 

Christian  idea  of  the  kingdom  of  God  drawn  from 
diverse  parts  of  the  Western  world.  The  triumph  of  the 
Church  was  the  essence  of  Christian  eschatology.  Strenu- 
ous rthical  basis  of  the  Jewisli-Christiau  conception  of  the 
kingdom  of  God.     41o-414. 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

RELATION   OF  JESUS  TO  CHRISTIANITY      ....  415-435 
Outline  of  the  preceding  sketch  of  the  transformation  of  Juda- 
ism into  Christianity.     What  is  the  relation  of  Jesus  to 
this  movement  ?     415,416. 

1.  He  announced  the  germinal  principles  of  Christianity.     The 

spiritual  basis  of  his  teaching.  Significance  of  his  silence  : 
he  added  nothing  to  the  existing  idea  of  immortality ; 
whether  he  represented  himself  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin ; 
whether  he  tauglit  the  dogma  of  imputed  righteousness  ; 
whetlier  he  regarded  himself  as  superlumian.     416-423. 

2.  The  result  of  his  teaching.     Did  it  alone  create  the  Church, 

or  was  it  modified  by  his  followers  ?  And  if  it  was  so 
modified,  what  was  his  relation  to  the  new  ideas  ?  The 
creed  of  the  infant  Chureii  was  belief  in  Jesus  as  the  Mes- 
siah. Whether  there  is  sign  of  dogmatic  reconstruction 
in  the  earliest  Christian  records.  Concurrence  of  favor- 
able conditions  at  the  birth  of  Christianity.  The  early 
Church  the  creation  of  Jesus.     423-427. 


CONTEXTS.  ■        xvii 

Page 

3.  Paul;  Ills  dogmatic  system  the  result  of  his  conception  of 

Jesus.  How  the  Church  came  to  interpret  the  death  of 
Christ  as  sacrificial.  The  exaltation  of  Jesus ;  distin- 
guished from  deification.  The  conception  of  Christ's  right- 
eousness as  legally  justifying.     427— J-31. 

4.  The    logos-doctrine,   in    Hebrews,    Ephesians,   Colossians, 

Fourth  Gospel.     431-433. 

The  variety  of  tlie  portraitures  of  Jesus  au  indication  of 
his  power ;  he  is  always  the  centre  of  life  and  belief ;  the 
Church  liis  creation  directly  or  indirectly  ;  his  place  in  the 
succeeding  history  of  the  Church.     433-435. 


Index  of  Citations  . 437 

Index  of  Subjects 445 


INTRODUCTION. 

ON   THE   GENERAL   LAWS   OF   THE   ADVANCE   FROM 
NATIONAL   TO   UNIVERSAL   RELIGIONS. 

I. 

THE  rise  of  Christianity  out  of  Judaism  is  a  fact  which, 
though  of  enormous  significance,  is  yet  in  conformity 
with  a  well-defined  law  of  human  progress.  The  recognition 
of  this  law  is  so  important  for  the  proper  understanding  of 
these  two  religions  that  it  will  be  not  out  of  place  to  attempt 
a  brief  sketch  of  its  working  before  entering  on  our  main 
subject.  We  may  begin  by  pohiting  out  the  social  basis 
of  religion,  and  then  go  on  to  examine  the  conditions  which 
determine  its  advance  from  lower  to  higher  stages. 

§  1.   Social  Character  of  Eeligion. 

1.  Eeligion  must  be  treated  as  a  product  of  human 
thought.  For  supposing  a  supernatural  intervention  for 
the  communication  of  truth,  it  must,  in  order  to  be  success- 
ful, conform  to  human  conditions,  and  have  a  real  genesis  in 
man's  mind.  And  as  human  thought  is  developed  only  in 
and  through  society,  religion  (like  language  and  ethics)  may 
be  regarded  as  a  branch  of  sociology,  subject  to  all  the  laws 
that  control  general  human  progress. 

2.  A  religious  consciousness  may  be  spoken  of  as  we 
may  speak  of  a  moral,  a  literary,  or  a  scientific  conscious- 
ness ;  these  expressions  imply  not  separate  faculties  of  the 
mind,  but  merely  the  ordinary  mental  activity  applied  to 


2  I^'TRODUCTION. 

particular  classes  of  objects.  The  content  of  what  we  call 
the  religious  consciousness  is  twofold,  —  the  idea  of  God ;  and 
the  conviction  that  man  needs  and  may  obtain  the  help  of 
God.  Each  of  these  elements  is  the  product  of  reflection. 
The  belief  in  God  rests  on  the  recognition  of  a  non-human, 
super-human  power  in  the  phenomena  of  outward  nature  and 
human  life.  The  desire  to  secure  God's  help  springs  from 
man's  feeling  that  he  is  in  the  midst  of  an  environment 
which  is  beyond  his  control,  at  the  mercy  of  elements  and 
beasts,  disease  and  circumstances.  How  he  construes  these 
two  facts,  what  comes  out  of  them  for  his  weal  or  woe, — 
this  is  a  part  of  his  social  history.  His  thought,  which  keeps 
pace,  or  rather  is  identical,  with  his  social  organization, 
occupies  itself  with  all  the  problems  of  life;  and  none  of 
these  is  more  important  for  him  than  the  question  of  his 
relation  to  the  mysterious,  invisible  power  which  he  believes 
to  stand  behind  all  phenomena.  Keligion  must  grow  as 
society  grows. 

§  2.   The  Geowth  of  Society. 

1.  The  general  law  of  natural  growth  is  modified  by  other 
laws  of  arrest,  retrogression,  and  decay.  Plants  and  animals 
have  their  laws  of  increase  against  which  they  seem  to  be 
powerless.  The  human  body,  as  a  whole  and  in  all  its  parts, 
reaches,  after  a  time,  a  point  beyond  which  it  cannot  advance, 
and  the  human  soul  appears  to  have  equally  definite  boun- 
daries marked  out  for  it.  Nature  seems  to  have  stamped 
on  all  living  things  this  tendency  toward  a  condition  of 
equilibrium  in  which  the  supply  of  force  is  just  equal  to  the 
waste,  the  powers  of  the  organism  just  suffice  to  make  head 
against  external  retarding  and  destructive  influences.  Does 
this  law  hold  of  communities  as  well  as  of  individuals? 
Certainly  there  are  a  number  of  cases  in  which  it  seems 
to  show  itself,  —  savage  tribes,  for  example,  which   appear 


THE   GROWTH  OF  SOCIETY.  3 

not  to  have  made  any  social  advance  from  time  immemorial ; 
and  of  the  greater  communities,  China  is  often  cited  as  an 
example  of  stagnation.  But  it  need  hardly  be  said  that 
great  caution  is  necessary  in  such  affirmations.  It  is  very 
doubtful  whether  the  term  "  arrest  of  growth  "  can  be  used 
of  China  in  any  proper  sense ;  and  as  for  the  savage  tribes 
of  the  world,  we  are  in  a  state  of  dense  ignorance  of  their 
history.  Social  stagnation  is  perfectly  conceivable  :  a  com- 
munity like  the  Fuegans,  for  instance,  may  reach  a  point 
of  content  where  there  is  not  sufficient  inducement  to  make 
inroads  upon  the  natural  environment ;  but  whether  this  is 
actually  the  case  we  do  not  know.  We  may  leave  the  ques- 
tion undecided  whether  there  is  any  community  which  has 
reached  the  state  of  social  equilibrium. 

2.  The  same  thing  must  be  said  of  the  natural  law  of 
retrogression  or  decay  as  applied  to  the  inward  life  of 
societies.  We  may  admit  its  possibility,  but  whether  it  is 
to  be  recognized  in  any  particular  case  is  matter  of  special 
examination.  Certainly  many  historical  examples  are  im- 
properly cited  to  prove  its  existence.  The  great  empires  of 
the  Old  World  —  Egypt,  Assyria,  Babylonia,  Persia,  Greece, 
Eome,  and  in  later  times  the  Calif  ate  and  the  Byzantine 
Empire  —  perished,  not  through  internal  moral-intellectual 
decay,  but  by  outward  pressure.  They  fell  apart  through  in- 
sufficient political  organization,  and  succumbed  to  the  vio- 
lence of  stronger  powers.  In  our  own  times  the  case  of 
Spain  is  instructive.  She  has  fallen  back  from  the  relative 
position  she  occupied  in  Europe  in  the  sixteenth  and  seven- 
teenth centuries ;  she  has  made  less  advance  than  her  neigh- 
bors ;  but  she  has  really  grown  in  all  the  elements  of  the  best 
national  life.  Christianity  did  not  undergo  a  decay  or  retro- 
gression in  the  Middle  Age;  its  ethical-religious  principles 
passed  over  from  civilized  Greeks  and  Eomans  to  groups  of 
barbarian  tribes  which,  at  first  incapable  of  grasping  them. 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

nevertheless  entered  on  a  career  of  steady  growth.  Seeming 
decay  is  sometimes  only  a  form  of  growth.  An  organism 
rids  itself  of  some  part  in  order  to  substitute  for  it  a  higher 
form.  A  growing  society  is  constantly  changing  its  institu- 
tions ;  the  institutions  decay,  the  society  lives.  Medieval 
chivalry  and  monarchy,  though  no  doubt  admirable  in  their 
day,  have  given  way  to  something  better.  The  transition 
from  the  old  to  the  new  may  be  attended  with  evil :  steam 
takes  the  place  of  human  labor,  and  thousands  of  people 
suffer  till  society  has  accommodated  itself  to  the  new  arrange- 
ment ;  the  rule  of  the  few  is  succeeded  by  that  of  the  many, 
which  brings  with  it  a  host  of  inconveniences  and  corrup- 
tions till  the  community  has  been  trained  to  use  its  powers 
aright.  In  all  these  cases  we  have  to  await  the  result  before 
deciding  whether  the  new  scheme  means  growth  or  decay. 

3.  Other  things  being  equal,  the  larger  the  community,  the 
more  assured  is  its  continuity  and  duration  of  growth.  This 
results  from  the  fact  that  the  larger  social  life  calls  into 
being  a  greater  moral-intellectual  force ;  and  it  is  this  which 
furnishes  the  best  safeguard  against  disintegrating  influences. 
In  a  large  community  the  elements  of  life  are  more  numer- 
ous, their  interactions  more  frequent,  each  is  developed  with 
more  completeness,  and  is  more  thoroughly  and  beneficially 
affected  by  the  others ;  just  as  the  more  thoroughly  devel- 
oped a  man's  nature,  the  broader  his  sympathies,  the  com- 
pleter the  activity  of  each  of  his  powers,  the  less  likely  he 
is  to  succumb  to  hostile  agencies,  physical,  intellectual,  or 
moral.  The  individual  and  the  nation  may  perish  by  vio- 
lence, but  of  the  two  the  nation  is  less  exposed  to  decay.  It 
renews  its  life  by  a  succession  of  individuals,  and  if  these 
retain  and  increase  the  moral-intellectual  power  which  comes 
from  high  social  organization,  and  if  there  intervene  no  phy- 
sical attack  from  without  or  within,  then  we  can  hardly  put 
a  limit  to  the  duration  of  national  life.     In  a  modern  nation 


THE   GROWTH   OF  SOCIETY.  5 

like  England,  we  may  be  slow  to  predict  dissolution  from 
internal  decay  ;  her  resources  of  physical  food  may  disappear, 
or  her  national  existence  may  be  crushed  by  wars,  but  so  far 
as  her  higher  life  is  concerned,  we  may  reasonably  expect 
that  it  will  grow  stronger  rather  than  weaker. 

4.  Eeligion,  as  an  element  of  social  life,  will  be  subject 
to  all  these  laws  of  social  development.  It  will  grow  or 
decline  with  the  community  in  which  it  exists.  The  possi- 
bility of  religious  stagnation,  retrogression,  and  decay  must 
be  allowed.  Whether  these  have  ever  actually  occurred, 
must  be  decided  by  the  examination  of  the  facts  in  any 
alleged  case.  Here,  also,  seeming  decay  may  be  a  form  of 
growth.  Judaism  did  not  suffer  by  the  destruction  of  the 
temple,  though  it  lost  its  apparatus  of  sacrifice.  The  Chris- 
tianity of  to-day  is  not  inferior  in  vigor  and  purity  to  that 
of  the  fourth  century,  though  it  has  discarded  many  opinions 
and  practices  of  that  period.  Religion  must  be  distinguished 
from  any  particular  organized  form  of  religion.  In  the 
bosom  of  a  national  church  there  may  arise  an  impulse 
which  shall  ultimately  change  its  outward  and  inward  con- 
stitution ;  and  the  new  form  may  represent  a  truer  and  more 
beneficent  religion  than  the  old.  Ideas  which  seem  to  many 
persons  fundamental  may  vanish,  and  their  adherents  may 
believe  that  an  era  of  impiety  has  begun;  yet  out  of  the 
ruins  of  a  shattered  faith  may  spring  another  faith  filled 
with  a  higher  spirit. 

The  larger  the  community,  the  more  persistent  and  vigor- 
ous the  religion  is  likely  to  be.  The  recognition  of  religion 
as  a  necessary  element  of  life  will  not  become  feebler  with 
the  intellectual  and  ethical  growth,  but  the  form  of  the 
conception  of  it  will  be  modified.  The  stress  will  be  laid 
on  the  rational  spiritual  side.  So  long  as  the  community 
exists,  danger  to  religion  can  come  only  from  its  failure  to 
respond  to  man's  deepest  needs  and  highest  desires.     But 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

there  is  no  reason  why  it  should  fail  to  do  this  ;  the  natural 
supposition  is  that  religion  will  advance  with  the  intellectual 
life  of  the  community,  and  come  into  possession  of  all  its 
elements  of  strength.  The  free  individual  life,  with  its  di- 
versities and  complexities,  will  preserve  religious  thought 
from  onesidedness ;  and  the  higher  social  organization  which 
always  attends  unfettered  individuality  will  guard  it  against 
unfruitful  shapelessness  and  license.  A  small  religious  sect 
is  in  danger  of  sinking  into  a  useless  narrowness  from  the 
lack  of  broad  intellectual  excitement,  and  of  perishing  by 
the  gradual  loss  of  individuals.  Such  a  sect,  by  withdraw- 
ing itself  from  the  community,  in  so  far  diminishes  the  mass 
of  productive  thought,  and  is  obstructive  and  retardative. 
This  is  an  altogether  different  thing  from  the  position  of  a 
minority,  like  the  Israelitish  prophetic  circle  or  that  of 
Luther  and  his  friends,  which  really  represents  and  ex- 
jDounds  the  deeper-lying  thought  of  the  community,  and 
thus  paves  the  way  to  a  higher  and  truer  unity  of  thought. 
It  is  in  this  way  that  all  religious  revolutions  have  been  ac- 
complished. The  realness  and  the  success  of  such  move- 
ments depend  on  the  fidelity  with  which  the  profounder 
thinkers  interpret  the  instincts  of  the  mass.  The  firmer 
the  organization  of  the  community,  the  freer  the  intercourse 
among  its  parts,  the  truer  will  be  its  feeling,  and  the  more 
certain  the  expression  of  it.  A  sect  is  injurious  as  rep- 
resenting not  simply  individuality,  but  individuality  cut 
off  from  real  intellectual  communication  with  tlie  mass  of 
the  community. 

II. 

We  come  now  to  inquire  into  the  general  conditions  under 
which  religious  progress,  so  far  as  we  can  trace  it  in  the 
world,  has  been  made.  These  conditions  may  be  divided 
into  those  which  control  the  formation  of  nations,  and  those 


FORMATION   OF   COMMUNITIES.  7 

which  determine  progress  within  the  nation ;  and  these  last 
are  either  inward,  springing  naturally  out  of  the  community 
itself,  or  outward,  coming  from  foreign  communities.  Only 
the  more  general  laws  can  be  touched  on  here,  but  the  prin- 
ciples on  which  they  rest  will  apply  as  well  to  the  smaller 
religious  bodies  as  to  those  great  movements  wliich  have 
issued  in  the  formation  of  national  and  universal  religions. 


§  1.   Formation  of  Communities. 

1.  A  few  words  on  this  head  will  suffice.  A  large  social 
life,  as  has  already  been  pointed  out,  is  an  essential  condition 
of  the  development  of  a  great  religion.  It  is  only  out  of  a 
national  organization  that  those  large  experiences  spring 
without  which  religious  systems  are  narrow  and-  unfruitful. 
A  religion  in  the  better  sense  of  the  term  is  the  organized 
product  of  a  national  thought  concerning  man's  relation  to 
the  divine.  The  more  mixed  the  nation,  provided  it  has 
reached  true  social-political  unity,  the  broader  and  more 
genial  the  religion  is  likely  to  be,  and  the  greater  its  power 
of  commending  itself  to  other  communities.  In  general,  the 
religion  is  coextensive  with  the  nation,  or  rather  with  the 
people;  if  the  latter  is  extinguished,  the  former  perishes. 
It  is  a  misfortune,  for  example,  for  the  comparative  history 
of  the  Semitic  religions  that  the  Assyrian  and  Babylonian 
empires  were  destroyed  by  violence  in  so  early  a  stage  of 
their  career ;  for  with  them  perished  their  religion,  and  we 
have  no  means  of  deciding,  among  other  things,  the  ques- 
tion whether  it  would  have  advanced  sensibly  toward  prac- 
tical monotheism.  Similarly,  the  religions  of  the  Hittites, 
the  Lydians,  the  Phcenicians,  the  Egyptians,  have  perished 
with  the  nations  to  which  they  belonged  ;  while  in  Japan, 
China,  and  India  the  maintenance  of  the  national  life  has 
preserved  very  ancient  forms  of  religion. 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

The  continuance  of  a  national-political  organization  is 
not  always  necessary  to  the  maintenance  of  its  system  of 
religion.  The  essential  thing  is  social  organization,  —  a  real 
unity  of  thought  in  a  large  mass  of  individuals ;  if  this 
exists,  political  independence  may  be  destroyed,  the  people 
may  be  driven  from  their  land  and  become  wanderers  in  the 
world,  and  yet  preserve  their  religion  substantially  intact. 
Whether  this  can  be  effected  will  depend  on  the  vigor  of 
character  of  the  people,  on  the  moral-intellectual  elevation 
of  the  religion  as  compared  with  that  of  other  religious 
systems  with  which  the  banished  people  are  brought  into 
contact,  and  on  the  isolation  in  which  they  live.  The  most 
striking  case  in  point  is  that  of  the  Jews.  Driven  from 
their  own  land,  and  living  in  the  midst  of  alien  communi- 
ties in  Asia,  Africa,  Europe,  and  America,  they  have  held 
to  the  religion  of  their  fathers  with  a  very  remarkable  per- 
tinacity, but  only  in  so  far  as  they  have  been  socially  iso- 
lated. In  the  Middle  Age,  as  inheritors  of  a  religion  which 
represented  centuries  of  thought  and  culture,  they  were  de- 
cidedly superior  to  their  Moslem  and  Christian  neighbors, 
and  above  the  temptation  of  being  influenced  by  them ;  and, 
further,  they  were  hated  and  persecuted,  and  forced  into 
social  isolation.  But  so  soon  as  they  came  into  relation 
with  other  communities  and  felt  the  influence  of  a  thought 
higher  than  their  own,  they  yielded  and  modified  their  re- 
ligion accordingly.  Another  though  less  striking  example 
is  that  of  the  Parsees,  who  have  preserved  the  Mazdean 
faith  through  twelve  centuries  of  bondage  and  persecution. 
Their  position,  however,  differs  from  that  of  the  Jews.  A 
foreign  faith  was  forced  on  Persia ;  Islam  expelled  Zoroas- 
trianism,  and  the  Persians  are  Mohammedans.  The  small 
body  which  remained  faithful  to  the  old  national  religion 
was  compelled  to  leave  its  native  land,  and  in  India  the 
Parsees,  isolated  by  their  beliefs  and  practices,  have  main- 


FORMATION  OF  COMMUNITIES.  9 

tained  their  religion  intact,  but  have  at  the  same  time  held 
themselves  aloof  from  outside  thought,  and  as  a  consequence 
have  sunk  into  almost  complete  stagnation.  Neither  me- 
dieval Judaism  nor  Parseeism  has  had  any  real  inward  de- 
velopment out  of  its  own  resources.  Neither  has  impressed 
itself  sensibly  on  other  communities ;  both  have  held  sub- 
stantially (except  under  impulses  from  without)  to  the  old 
traditional  faiths  which  they  have  worked  up  more  or  less 
mechanically. 

A  community  without  national  political  organization  is 
thus  exposed  to  the  double  danger  of  extinction  and  assimi- 
lation. Its  members  perish  and  are  with  difficulty  replaced ; 
or  under  the  influence  of  alien  thought  its  religion  is  gradu- 
ally, often  insensibly,  transformed  till  it  ceases  to  have  any- 
thing but  the'  name  in  common  with  its  old  self.  And  so, 
while  admitting  a  certain  vitality  in  some  politically  unor- 
ganized communities,  we  may  recognize  in  history  the  gen- 
eral rule  that  fruitful  religions  have  arisen  in  societies 
characterized  by  a  true  national  life.  And  it  is  always  pos- 
sible that  from  such  a  national  religion  an  idea  may  spring 
so  simple  and  broad  that  it  shall  commend  itself  to  other 
communities,  and  clothe  itself  with  an  organization  which 
ignores  and  transcends  national  lines. 

2.  In  what  has  been  said  above,  it  is  assumed  that  in  any 
regularly  organized  society  there  is  a  natural  law  of  progress. 
This  is  no  doubt  true  of  the  society  after  it  has  received 
definite  shape ;  but  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  its  final 
shape  is  usually  the  result  of  a  process  of  aggregation.  The 
old  genealogical  scheme  in  which  one  ancestor,  by  natural 
increase  through  a  number  of  generations,  becomes  the  father 
of  a  great  nation,  is  not  in  accordance  with  the  testimony  of 
history.  The  composite  character  of  the  Hindu,  Greek, 
Latin,  French,  English,  and  other  peoples  is  well  known  ; 
and  the  Old  Testament,  which  is  concerned  to  derive  the 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

Israelitisli  nation  from  Jacob,  yet  gives  us  hints  here  and 
there  of  the  entrance  of  alien  tribes  and  of  a  mixed  nation- 
ahty.  As  far  as  we  can  trace  the  process,  nations  liave 
come  into  existence  by  successive  combinations  of  small 
communities,  and  national  religions  are  aggregations  of 
tribal  faiths. 

Let  us  suppose  that  in  several  small  communities  dwelling 
near  one  another,  different  though  similar  religious  creeds  have 
grown  up.  Each  community  will  have  its  scheme  of  deities 
and  worship,  its  vague  conception  of  the  relation  between  the 
human  and  the  divine.  In  process  of  time  it  may  come  to 
pass  that  these  communities  shall  be  united  by  conquest  or 
otherwise.  When  a  real  social-political  unity  shall  have 
been  established,  a  new  faith  will  have  come  into  existence, 
comprising  all  the  substantial  elements  of  the  old  faiths,  but 
probably  broader  and  truer  than  any  one  of  them.  Ideas 
and  customs  will  have  been  sifted  and  massed,  the  merely 
local,  the  comparatively  unimportant,  rejected,  and  what  re- 
mains will  be  the  religious  material  that  commends  itself  to 
the  intelligence  and  feeling  of  the  whole  body  of  the  result- 
ant large  community.  This  process  may  be  repeated  until 
a  nation  arises  whose  thought-material  will  be  the  outcome 
of  a  long  process  of  experience  and  reflection,  in  which  only 
that  will  be  retained  which  appeals  to  the  presumably  higher 
intelligence  and  more  serious  needs  of  the  larger  community. 
A  well-known  example  of  this  process  of  religious  nggrega- 
tion  is  furnished  by  the  pantheons  of  Egypt,  Babylonia,  and 
Greece ;  the  number  of  parallel  and  duplicated  deities  is  most 
naturally  explained  as  the  result  of  the  welding  together  of 
different  communities,  and  the  combination  of  their  religious 
schemes  into  one  system,  in  which,  of  course,  divergencies 
and  discrepancies  often  show  themselves.  There  are  traces 
of  the  same  sort  of  syncretism  in  the  Old  Testament,  in  the 
divine  names,  and  perhaps  elsewhere. 


THE   INTERNAL   DEVELOPMENT   OF   IDEAS.  11 

The  same  process  has  been  repeated  on  a  larger  scale  in 
the  greater  religious  movements  of  the  world.  In  Islam  we 
have  a  mixture  of  ideas  from  three  sources,  —  the  Old  Arabian 
religion,  the  Jewish,  and  the  Christian.  Christianity  has 
blended  with  the  religious  and  moral  ideas  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment much  un-Jewish  European  thought.  The  Judaism  of 
the  two  or  three  centuries  just  preceding  the  beginning  of 
our  era  combined  Hebrew  and  Greek  conceptions.  Wherever 
there  is  intimate  intellectual  intercourse  between  nations, 
this  larger  religious  syncretism  must  follow.  The  stage  of 
unity  of  religious  thought  which  modern  Europe  has  reached 
is  the  result  of  social  assimilation ;  and  if  the  process  of 
assimilation  goes  on,  we  may  hope  for  a  constant  progress 
toward  complete  religious  unity.  We  may  go  farther  and 
discern  increasing  points  of  contact  in  the  more  cultivated 
religious  thought  of  Europe  and  Asia.  The  early  stages  of 
social-religious  aggregation  are  thus  the  first  step  in  a  much 
wider  movement,  which,  under  favorable  conditions,  may 
issue  in  a  religious  unity  that  shall  embrace  the  whole  world, 
and  shall  be  broad  and  high  in  proportion  to  the  mass  of 
thought  which  enters  into  it. 

§  2.  The  Internal  Development  of  Ideas. 
1.  The  nation  being  formed,  and  the  conditions  of  its  life 
being  such  as  to  permit  social  progress,  there  will  be  first 
within  its  own  limits  a  constant  elaboration  and  perfecting 
of  religious  conceptions.  Eeligion  is  so  prominent  and  defi- 
nite an  element  of  social  life  that  it  will  be  the  object  of 
constant  reflection  on  the  part  of  the  community.  Its  funda- 
mental ideas  and  its  practices  will  shape  themselves  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  intellectual-moral  status  of  the  nation. 
The  religious  system  of  the  people  will  express  its  attempt 
to  construe  the  world  in  accordance  with  its  highest  in- 
stincts ;  the  national  thought  will  be  forever  reaching  out 


12  IN^TRODUCTION. 

after  some  better  definition  of  the  relation  between  'the 
human  and  the  divine.  Old  customs  and  ideas  which  have 
become  unsatisfactory  will  be  modified  or  abandoned,  and 
new  customs  and  ideas  adopted.  Each  generation  will  re- 
model in  its  own  interests  the  material  of  its  x^redecessors, 
retaining  what  it  can  use,  and  fashioning  the  whole  after 
its  highest  ideal.  If  it  retains  and  reverences  old  forms,  it 
will  nevertheless  interpret  them  in  a  new  fashion.  No  com- 
munity can  really  occupy  a  religious  position  which  is  in- 
ferior to  that  of  its  intellectual-moral  thought ;  inferior 
religious  ideas,  even  if  they  be  nominally  embraced,  will 
be  practically  dead.  There  will  be  an  overlapping  of  the 
new  by  the  old,  and  temporary  anachronisms  and  inconsis- 
tencies, but  these  will  be  constantly  yielding  to  the  pressure 
of  thought,  and  the  moulding  power  of  the  religious  system 
will  reside  in  those  general  ideas  of  life  which  meet  the  needs 
of  the  age.  There  will  always  be  more  or  less  of  intellectual 
confusion  and  disingenuousness  ;  at  any  particular  moment 
there  will  be  a  conflict  in  most  men's  minds  between  the  con- 
servative reverence  for  the  past  and  the  demands  of  the 
present.  At  any  given  moment  also,  decided  progress  will 
be  visible  only  in  the  few ;  the  many  will  seem  to  be  inert 
and  stationary.  Nevertheless,  a  process  of  leavening  goes  on, 
ideas  make  themselves  felt ;  and  after  a  time  it  is  seen  that 
a  change  has  come  over  the  spirit  of  the  community,  there 
is  a  chasm  between  the  men  of  the  time  and  their  fathers. 
Whether  this  change  will  be  for  the  better  will  depend  on 
the  character  of  the  general  social  progress,  as  to  which  we 
must  in  each  particular  case  decide  in  accordance  with 
historical  fact. 

2.  In  so  far  as  the  community  is  a  unit,  it  will  advance 
as  a  whole,  all  its  elements  moving  together,  though  not 
necessarily  developing  to  the  same  extent.  Men's  thoughts 
are  constantly  occupied  with  all    that  concerns  life  ;    they 


THE   IXTERNAL   DEVELOPMENT   OF   IDEAS.  13 

devote  themselves  with  greatest  assiduity  and  intensity  to 
what  they  think  most  important,  but  no  phase  of  Hfe  can 
be  judged  to  be  altogether  unimportant.  Religion,  social  and 
political  organization,  morals,  art,  and  science  must  move 
hand  in  hand.  They  all  issue  out  of  the  same  social  life. 
Each  in  a  sort  goes  its  independent  way,  yet  each  influences 
and  is  influenced  by  the  others.  Examples  of  such  influ- 
ence readily  occur  to  us,  as  the  way  in  which  art  has  been 
affected  by  religion  and  by  science.  We  are  not  here  con- 
cerned with  the  full  discussion  of  these  interactions,  but 
only  with  the  question  how  far  religion  is  affected  by  other 
lines  of  social  thought.  AVhat  does  it  owe  to  politics,  ethics, 
art,  and  science  ? 

Besides  its  general  quickening  and  developing  effect  on 
thought,  art  has  aided,  by  training  the  constructive  imagi- 
nation, in  the  formation  of  all  systems  of  religion ;  it  has 
played  the  part  of  instructor  by  embodying  moral-religious 
ideals  in  pictures,  statues,  and  buildings,  and  thus  holding 
up  to  men's  constant  contemplation  those  ethical  and  reli- 
gious conceptions  which  artistic  imagination  has  adopted 
or  created  from  current  thought ;  and  by  its  appeal  to  the 
emotional  nature  it  has  stimulated  and  intensified  the  whole 
of  man's  religious  side. 

The  social-political  constitution  of  a  community  usually 
serves  as  model  for  its  theistic  system.  The  organization  of 
the  clan,  the  family,  the  nation,  in  the  relations  of  husband 
and  wife,  parent  and  child,  ruler  and  subject,  is  reproduced  in 
the  construction  of  the  supernatural  powers.  In  savage  tribes 
the  deity  is  father  or  husband  or  chief  of  the  clan ;  in  more 
advanced  communities  he  becomes  king,  tyrant,  or  archon,  his 
powers  and  qualities  being  those  of  his  human  model.  In 
the  Christian  Church  a  resemblance  may  be  traced  between 
forms  of  church  government  and  the  social-political  ideas  of 
the  periods  or  communities  in  which  they  have  arisen. 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

The  influence  of  science  and  ethics  on  religion  may  be 
examined  somewhat  more  at  length. 

3.  Keligion  and  science  have  this  in  common,  that  they 
both  attempt  to  explain  the  phenomena  of  the  world  and  of 
life.  They  differ  in  that  this  explanation  is  a  secondary  object 
for  religion,  a  primary  object  for  science.  Religion,  recognizing 
the  divine,  seeks  to  enter  into  relation  with  it,  gain  its  favor, 
and  secure  its  aid.  It  sees  intimations  of  the  divine  in  man 
and  in  the  world.  Men  began  with  assuming  that  all  phe- 
nomena were  the  direct  acts  of  the  deity  ;  that  they  had  a 
direct  relation  with  the  existing  human  life,  and  were  con- 
trolled by  motives  such  as  men  felt  in  themselves.  Kain, 
drought,  sunshine  and  cloud,  wind,  thunder  and  lightning, 
earthquake  and  eclipse,  were  conceived  to  be  expressions  of 
the  divine  pleasure  or  displeasure;  all  the  fortunes  of  life 
were  supposed  to  be  the  direct  product  of  the  intervention 
of  the  deity.  Life  was  thought  of  as  a  .system  of  rewards 
and  punishments  from  without,  fashioned  by  the  good-will 
or  anger  of  the  superhuman  power,  according  as  man  was 
obedient  or  disobedient.  From  the  creation  of  the  world  to 
the  growth  of  a  blade  of  grass,  from  the  extinction  of  a 
nation  to  the  most  trivial  bodily  pain,  all  w^as  looked  on  as 
the  immediate  act  of  a  god,  friendly  or  unfriendly,  standing 
outside  of  and  above  human  thought  and  effort. 

The  scientific  impulse  —  that  is,  the  desire  to  understand 
phenomena  —  was  coeval  with  the  religious ;  but  as  it  de- 
manded more  exact  observation,  its  development  w^as  slower. 
Little  by  little,  facts  were  observed  in  their  connections, 
sequences  were  established,  and  the  belief  in  an  orderly  ar- 
rangement of  things  came  into  existence.  This  belief  laid 
the  fovmdations  at  once  of  civilization  and  of  spiritual  reli- 
gion. As  long  as  men  were  ignorant  of  the  natural  order  of 
things,  on  which  all  effective  industry  depends,  they  were 
at  the  mercy  of  superstition  and  of  chance ;  they  began  to 


THE   INTERNAL   DEVELOPMENT   OF   IDEAS.  15 

make  progress  as  soon  as  they  accepted  natural  law,  and 
yielded  themselves  to  its  guidance.  As  a  matter  of  course, 
the  domain  of  natural  law  was  subtracted  from  that  of  direct 
divine  intervention.  The  effect  on  religion  of  such  a  view 
was  not  to  diminish  the  conception  of  divine  power,  but  only 
to  modify  the  interpretation  of  phenomena  as  expressions 
of  the  will  of  the  deity.  Freer  play  was  given  to  human 
thought  and  activity  when  it  was  seen  that  man's  inner  life 
sprang  from  himself,  and  that  outward  events,  whether  in 
the  domain  of  physical  nature  or  in  that  of  human  action, 
could  be  in  some  degree  foreseen  and  controlled  in  the  inter- 
ests of  the  individual.  More  and  more  it  came  to  be  felt 
that  God,  though  omniscient  and  omnipotent,  had  so  ordered 
things  that  the  immediate,  practical  direction  of  affairs  was 
in  man's  hands ;  the  whole  might  be  directed  by  the  divine 
power  for  ends  beyond  man's  ken,  but  the  visible  nexus  of 
events  was  committed  to  the  human  mind ;  the  world  was 
given  over  to  man  to  be  studied  and  subdued,  and  he  was 
intrusted  with  the  care  of  his  own  heart,  to  fashion  and  train 
it  according  to  the  demands  of  conscience.  But  here,  in  the 
domain  of  conscience  and  spiritual  life,  he  was  felt  not  to 
stand  alone ;  gradually  the  conviction  gained  strength  that 
the  divine  influence  manifested  itself  in  the  spiritual  sphere, 
bringing  the  heart  of  man  into  harmony  with  the  divine 
spirit,  and  disciplining  it  into  purity.  During  this  period  of 
scientific  training,  the  idea  of  God  was  constantly  advancing, 
rising  from  the  warrior  or  demon  of  earliest  times  to  the 
spirit  of  justice  and  love. 

Science  has  been  the  handmaid  and  friend  of  religion,  re- 
lieving it  of  the  burden  of  superstitions,  of  false  relations 
between  phenomena,  and  pushing  it  to  the  conception  of  the 
spiritual  relation  between  man  and  God.  This  long-con- 
tinued process  (still  going  on)  might  be  called  a  conflict 
between  the  two,  but  it  is  better  to  regard  it  as  a  single 


IG  ENTRODUCTION. 

process,  in  which  one  element  in  human  life  has  been  con- 
stantly influenced  by  another.  There  have  indeed  been 
sharp  conflicts.  Eeligion  has  identified  itself  with  certain 
physical  beliefs,  invested  them  with  divine  sacredness,  and 
mercilessly  trampled  on  all  who  opposed  them,  —  the  Galileo 
episodes  of  history  are  not  few.  Even  to-day  the  purely 
scientific  theories  of  the  evolutionary  origin  of  man  and  of 
the  Pentateuch  seem  to  some  persons  anti-rehgious  and  de- 
structive, things  to  be  opposed  as  warmly  as  if  they  denied 
man's  moral  nature.  But  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  con- 
stantly widening  religious  circle  which  holds  that  science, 
being  simply  the  observation  of  phenomena,  can  never  be 
hostile  to  religion  properly  conceived  ;  can  be  only  beneficial 
in  helping  to  define  the  religious  sphere ;  cannot  limit  the 
power  of  God,  who  stands  above  or  beneath  phenomena,  but 
may  better  our  conception  of  him ;  can,  in  a  word,  result  only 
in  the  purification  of  religion,  and  therefore  in  its  exaltation 
and  strengthening  as  an  element  of  human  life. 

4.  Ethics,  like  science,  has  worked  out  its  results  inde- 
pendently of  religion,  to  which,  however,  it  is  nearer  in  its 
material,  and  from  which  it  has  generally  derived  its  highest 
motives  and  sanctions. 

We  are  here  dealing  with  practical  ethics,  the  moral  or- 
dering of  human  life,  men's  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  and 
the  way  in  which  they  were  arrived  at.  Our  moral  codes 
ari.se  out  of  the  necessity  that  is  laid  upon  man  to  live  in 
society.^     The    indiv^idual  starts   with  certain  instincts  (the 

1  In  some  cases  social  or  governmental  usages  and  quasi-ethical  rules 
issue  out  of  religious  ideas,  notably  under  the  operation  of  tabu.  Such 
usages  are  felt  in  primitive  societies  to  be  distinctly  religious,  —  for  example, 
the  prohibition  of  tlic  use  of  the  name  of  the  chief  or  king,  who  is  regarded 
as  a  divine  person ;  the  laws  relating  to  food  among  the  Persians,  Arabs, 
Jews,  and  other  peoples  (treated  in  the  Levitical  codes  as  religious  usages)  ; 
customs  connected  with  childbirth  (these  also  retain  their  religious  character 
in  the  Old  Testament  law),  and  special  disabilities  as  to  food  imposed  on 
women ;    the  stringent  prescriptions   controlling  sacerdotal  persons  in   all 


THE   INTERNAL  DEVELOPMENT  OF   IDEAS.  17 

origin  of  which  we  need  not  stop  here  to  ask)  which  direct 
his  conduct ;  these  instincts  are  self-assertion  and  sympathy. 
How  these  shall  manifest  themselves  in  actual  life,  how  each 
shall  modify  and  control  the  other,  —  this  is  determined  only 
by  the  needs  of  social  life,  by  the  conclusions  which  men 
reach  respecting  the  well-being  of  the  whole  society,  or  what 
practically  amounts  to  the  same  thing,  by  the  individual's 
opinion  of  what  will  secure  the  best  good  of  himself  consid- 
ered as  a  member  of  society,  himself  including  any  circle 
whose  interests  he  regards  as  identical  with  his  own.  Moral 
rules  relating  to  respect  for  property  and  life,  and  to  utter- 
ance of  truth,  spring  naturally  from  experience,  which  shows 
that  without  them  society  could  not  exist.  Social  progress 
is  attended  by  the  formulation  of  constantly  broadening 
rules  of  conduct,  as  men's  relations  with  their  fellows  be- 
come wider  and  more  intimate ;  as  the  recognition  of  the 
power  and  value  of  each  human  personality  becomes  more 


ancient  nations,  as,  for  example,  the  Roman  Flamen  Dialis  and  vestal 
virgins,  and  the  Jewish  priesthood.  Such  of  these  customs  as  concern  the 
general  daily  life  probably  rest  finally  on  social  conditions ;  the  sacredness 
or  (what  is  the  same  thing)  the  "  uncleanness  "  of  the  cow,  the  swine,  and 
other  animals  (whether  totemistic  in  origin  or  not)  may  be  supposed  to  de- 
pend on  their  relation  to  the  life  of  early  man.  When  the  strictly  tabu  or 
religious  character  of  these  usages  begins  to  fade  away,  they  are  brought 
more  and  more  under  the  control  of  ethical  principles  and  judged  accord- 
ingly ;  when  they  cease  to  be  religious  they  are  maintained  or  set  aside  by 
considerations  derived,  not  from  religion,  but  from  social  life.  The  canon  law 
against  marrying  the  sister  of  a  deceased  wife  (based,  apparently,  on  a  mis- 
interpretation of  Lev.  xviii.  18)  is  now  discussed  on  purely  ethical  grounds. 
In  some  cases  religion  adopts  and  enforces  social  conditions,  as  in  the  Hindu 
caste  system,  which  seems  to  have  arisen  from  the  amalgamation  of  various 
tribes.  More  generally,  it  may  be  said  to  be  probable  that  in  most  instances  of 
religious-ethical  usage,  religion  makes  a  special  application  of  an  etliical  prin- 
ciple already  wrought  out  by  society.  Thus,  if  a  field  is  made  tabu  by  a 
private  man,  the  respect  which  other  men  show  for  his  rights  rests  finally  on 
their  recognition  of  the  rights  of  property.  It  is,  however,  often  difficult  to 
decide  where  the  religious  feeling  ends  and  the  ethical  begins.  It  is  sufficient 
for  our  purposes  to  accept  the  fact  that  the  general  ethical  system  of  men 
has  arisen  from  social  relations. 


18  INTRODUCTION. 

distinct ;  and  as  the  sense  of  union  among  all  men  empha- 
sizes the  feeling  that  the  good  of  one  is  inseparably  con- 
nected with  the  good  of  all.  The  final  result  of  the  process 
is  the  formation  of  ethical  ideals  which  are  always  in  ad- 
vance of  the  actual  practice,  which  become  more  exalted 
with  each  age  of  progress,  are  more  and  more  loved  for 
their  own  sake,  and  take  their  place  as  a  definite  and  pow- 
eriul  ethical  impulse.  They  are  naturally  appropriated  by 
the  individual,  and  form  the  material  on  which  the  instinct 
of  self-assertion  or  self-perfecting  acts.  These  two  lines  of 
ethical  growth,  —  the  perfecting  of  self  and  the  perfecting  of 
society,  —  inseparably  connected  from  the  beginning,  and 
brought  into  an  ever-growing  closeness  of  alliance,  act  and 
react  on  each  other,  and  tend  to  form  the  absolute  subjective 
ethical  unity,  in  which  the  whole  nature  of  man  shall  be 
consecrated  to  the  highest  ethical  ideals. 

Ethics  thus  belongs  essentially  to  human  relations,  and  is 
in  itself  independent  of  that  sense  of  the  divine  which  con- 
stitutes religion.  The  instances  are  well  known  of  deep  or 
high  religious  feeling  existing  along  with  low  ethical  ideas : 
Socrates,  with  his  pure  conception  of  the  deity  and  his  ap- 
proval of  practices  now  looked  on  as  monstrous  ;  the  lofty 
theistic  creed  of  the  exilian  Isaiah,  and  the  unhappy  inter- 
national sentiment  of  Psalm  exxxvii. ;  the  intense  piety  and 
the  relentless  cruelty  of  the  Spanish  Inquisition  ;  the  Ge- 
neva of  the  sixteenth  century,  religiously  serious  and  strenu- 
ous, yet  thinking  it  a  desirable  thing  to  put  a  man  to  death 
for  denial  of  a  theological  dogma  ;  the  piety  and  pitilessness 
of  the  English  Puritans  of  the  seventeenth  century ,  Sanchez 
and  Xavier  in  the  same  religious  community ;  devotion  to 
the  Church  and  disregard  of  honesty  and  truthfulness  in 
many  individuals  in  all  parts  of  the  world  to-day.  There 
are  as  many  examples  of  the  coexistence  of  little  or  no  reli- 
gious feeling  and   pure  ethical  ideas  and   practice:    Stoics, 


THE   INTERNAL  DEVELOPMENT  OF   IDEAS.  19 

Epicureans,  Confucianists,  Buddhists,  Comtists,  Agnostics, — 
in  the  ranks  of  these  and  other  bodies  which  practically  dis- 
pense with  God  are  found  men  inferior  to  none  in  strictness 
of  moral  code  and  practice,  in  the  exhibition  of  the  finest 
and  most  genial  ethical  feeling.  The  sense  of  the  divine 
may  be  high,  while  the  feeling  of  sympathy  with  one's  fellow- 
men  is  low ;  or,  conversely,  the  first  may  be  feeble  and  the 
second  strong.  In  like  manner  a  scientific  or  unscientific 
conception  of  God  may  coexist  with  great  or  small  religious 
or  ethical  feeling. 

Yet  there  is  a  very  important  relation  between  religion 
and  ethics ;  they  tend  constantly  to  coalesce.  God,  who  is 
the  religious  ideal,  naturally  becomes  the  ethical  ideal,  and 
comes  to  embody  the  best  ethical  thought  of  each  period,  — ■ 
this  thought  having  been  developed,  however,  not  by  reli- 
gion, but  out  of  social  conditions.  It  is  a  familiar  fact  that 
in  a  growing  community  —  for  example,  among  the  Hebrews 
of  the  Old  Testament  time  —  the  conception  of  the  deity  be- 
comes ethically  higher  and  higher ;  theology  appropriates 
the  results  of  moral  experience.  There  is  then  a  reaction  on 
human  life ;  man  shapes  his  conduct  so  as  to  please  the 
deity,  and  the  greater  the  ethical  purity  of  the  divine  char- 
acter, the  greater  the  stimulus  to  man's  moral  life.  In  ad- 
dition to  this  purely  ethical  relation,  there  is  the  sanction 
conceived  to  be  ailxed  to  the  moral  law  by  the  Supreme 
Euler ;  the  rewards  and  punishments  in  this  world  and  the 
next,  bestowed  by  the  deity,  constitute  to  some  extent  a  bar- 
rier against  wrong-doing  and  an  encouragement  of  right- 
doing  ;  though  as  a  matter  of  fact  it  would  seem  that  men's 
social  conduct  is  usually  determined  more  by  their  relations 
to  their  fellows  than  by  their  relations  to  God,  —  rather  by 
the  visible  and  immediate  than  by  the  invisible  and  remote. 
Scientific  thought  also  modifies  this  conception ;  it  discards 
anthropomorphic  divine  intervention,  and  represents  ethical 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

good  and  evil  as  bringing  their  reward  and  punishment 
solely  in  the  way  of  natural  law. 

Practical  religion  is  the  attempt  to  propitiate  the  deity 
and  live  in  union  with  him  ;  practical  ethics  is  the  attempt 
to  recognize  man  and  live  in  harmony  with  him.  But  out 
of  the  idea  of  ethical  obligation  naturally  arises  the  con- 
ception of  absolute  right,  which  must  be  identified  with  the 
idea  of  God.  Eight,  truth,  goodness,  these  are  the  will  of 
God ;  they  are  the  moral  order  of  the  universe,  the  mani- 
festation of  the  infinite  spirit.  From  this  point  of  view 
religion  and  ethics  are  one ;  to  know  God  is  to  know  his 
ethical  self-manifestation  in  the  world.  This  is  the  highest 
single  conception  of  the  divine  ;  but  the  complete  knowledge 
of  God  includes,  as  far  as  human  thought  can  comprehend 
it,  the  whole  of  the  divine  self-manifestation.  And  this,  as 
is  intimated  above,  has  been  the  underlying  idea  in  all  reli- 
gious history.  Men  have  put  their  best  science  and  ethics 
into  their  conception  of  the  divine,  —  ethics  and  science  both 
imperfect  in  varying  degrees,  and  the  conception  of  God  con- 
sequently exhibiting  what  seems  to  us  to  be  contradiction. 

5.  Eeligion  is  thus  primarily  a  sentiment,  the  recognition 
of  the  relation  between  God  and  man,  the  effort  to  found 
life  on  something  higher  than  man  ;  and  its  content  is  deter- 
mined by  science  and  ethics.  To  the  former  is  due  man's 
conception  of  the  nature  of  the  divine  and  the  mode  of  its 
self-manifestation;  from  the  latter  comes  the  moral  ideal  of 
life  from  which  religion  can  never  withdraw  itself.  Dogma 
and  conduct  are  the  necessary  complements  of  the  religious 
sentiment,  the  material  which  the  religious  consciousness 
assimilates,  and  by  which  it  grows  ;  and  the  history  of  re- 
ligion consists  in  the  development  of  these  two  elements. 
Eitual  is  merely  a  form  of  expression  of  dogma. ^     The  ab- 

^  This  is  true  even  in  those  early  sj'Stems  in  which  ritual  may  be  said  to 
form  the  whole  of  religion. 


GREAT   MEN.  21 

solute  power  of  any  given  religion  will  be  in  proportion  to 
the  purity  —  that  is,  the  spirituality  —  of  its  dogma,  and 
the  elevation  of  its  moral  ideal ;  its  practical  power  at  a 
given  moment  and  in  a  given  community  will  depend  on 
its  capacity  to  commend  relatively  high  dogmatic  and  ethi- 
cal conceptions  to  men's  minds  and  hearts. 

§  3.   Gkeat  Men. 

We  have  spoken  of  social-religious  progress  as  continuous, 
and  this  it  doubtless  is  when  long  periods  are  taken  into 
consideration.  But  within  these  longer  periods  progress  is 
marked  by  flows  and  ebbs,  elevations  and  depressions,  in- 
tervals of  calm  followed  by  apparent  sudden  outbursts  of 
energy.  We  are  not  called  on  here  to  attempt  the  explana- 
tion of  this  fact ;  it  is  sufficient  to  note  its  existence.  But 
there  is  one  feature  of  the  development  so  important  as  to 
call  for  special  mention,  —  the  part,  namely,  played  by  indi- 
viduals in  the  extension  and  elevation  of  human  thought. 
History  proceeds  by  crises,  and  a  crisis  implies  a  great  man. 

1.  We  may  say  in  the  first  place  that  great  men  are  a 
necessity  in  social  progress.  At  intervals  of  greater  or  less 
extent  the  ideas  and  institutions  of  a  growing  society  have 
to  be  recast  in  accordance  with  advancing  thought.  For  a 
time  men  may  be  able  and  willing  to  live  under  a  set  of  in- 
stitutions with  which  they  are  more  or  less  consciously  out 
of  sympathy ;  there  will  be  a  general  uneasiness,  which  for 
a  while,  however,  will  not  be  sufficient  to  interfere  with  the 
orderly  course  of  life.  But  there  comes  a  time  when  a 
change  is  imperatively  demanded.  Conscience,  the  moral 
and  religious  ideal,  protests  against  the  existing  order;  there 
is  an  increasingly  oppressive  feeling  that  the  present  is  out 
of  relation  with  the  past  and  the  future,  a  sense  of  moral- 
religious  uncomfortableness,  which  drives  men  to  define 
their  ideals  and  to  shape  life  in  accordance  therewith.     This 


22  INTRODUCTION. 

sense  of  the  need  of  social  and  individual  renewal  naturally 
becomes  distinct  and  effective  first  in  the  minds  of  the  cho- 
sen few,  the  leaders  of  thouglit,  those  whose  souls  are  aglow 
with  moral-religious  excitement  and  inspiration,  the  true 
practical  idealists.  But  even  a  small  body  of  men  find  it 
hard  to  attain  the  definiteness  and  unity  which  are  essential 
to  action ;  individual  divergencies  lame  practical  energy. 
Some  one  man  must,  as  a  rule,  put  hhnself  at  the  head  of 
the  movement,  called  to  that  position  by  his  gifts,  and  en- 
forcing recognition  by  his  eminence  ;  and  as  a  matter  of 
fact  such  an  one  usually  appears  so  soon  as  the  time  is  ripe 
for  action.  Such  crises  are  continually  occurring  in  life ; 
they  are  of  different  degrees  of  importance,  relating  to  all 
affairs  from  the  smallest  to  the  largest,  from  the  opening  of 
a  new  street  in  a  city  to  a  change  of  the  organization  of  a 
college,  from  the  introduction  of  a  new  fashion  in  dress  to  a 
revolution  in  science  or  government,  or  the  restatement  of 
the  religious  beliefs  of  a  nation  or  a  continent.  But  great 
or  small,  each  will  have  its  representative  man,  who  is  the 
embodiment  of  the  current  ideas  and  the  mouthpiece  of 
opinion,  the  concentration  of  the  energy  of  the  circle  of 
interests  involved.  He  is  always  the  great  man  of  the  oc- 
casion ;  and  wlien  the  body  of  thought  which  he  represents 
is  large  and  effective,  he  is  one  of  the  great  men  of  the 
world. 

2.  It  is  involved  in  what  is  said  above  that  such  a  man 
is  born  out  of  the  thought  of  his  time ;  he  is  essentially  the 
child  of  his  age.  The  material  of  his  thought  must  come 
from  his  own  present  and  past;  an  absolute  break  is  un- 
thinkable. Thought  itself  is  impossible  without  material 
already  furnished  to  the  mind.  Usually  it  is  possible  to 
discover  a  man's  relation  to  his  past  and  to  his  present ; 
this  is  what  we  demand  from  the  biographer,  and  this  is 
what  lie  undi-rtakos  to  do,  whether  his  subject  ,be  Calvin  or 


GREAT   MEN.     .  23 

Confucius,  Zoroaster  or  Swedenborg.     We  feel  that  an  idea 
born  out  of  nothing  would  be  unintelligible  and  dead. 

3.  Yet  in  this  process,  which  we  must  recognize  as  or- 
derly, there  is  always  something  inexplicable  in  the  achieve- 
ment of  the  guiding  mind.  We  may  demonstrate  the  man's 
relation  to  his  past,  exhibit  the  circle  of  ideas  in  which  he 
grows  up,  and  perceive  the  connection  between  his  thought 
and  that  of  his  times ;  but  in  the  last  analysis,  when  Me 
reach  the  creative  moment,  it  is  impossible  to  give  the  his- 
tory of  the  process.  There  is  a  mystery  in  his  mental  ex- 
periences, in  the  way  in  which  he  seizes  on  the  problem, 
combines  its  elements,  and  reaches  his  result.  He  himself 
can  commonly  give  no  logical  account  of  his  procedure,  he 
can  only  say  that  he  sees  and  knows  the  solution  ;  out  of 
many  possible  ways  of  dealing  with  the  questions  of  life, 
he  has  chosen  one  which  proves  to  be  the  right  one,  inas- 
much as  it  commends  itself  to  men  and  introduces  harmony 
and  peace  in  place  of  discord  and  unrest.  The  larger  the 
problem,  the  more  numerous  do  the  possible  solutions  seem 
to  men  to  be,  the  greater  the  difficulty  of  seizing  on  the  one 
simple  thought  which  shall  convert  the  cliaos  into  a  cosmos, 
and  the  harder  to  represent  the  mental  spiritual  process  by 
which  the  transforming  discovery  is  made.  It  is  a  mystery 
that  meets  us  in  every  department  of  human  life ;  when  we 
have  called  it  genius,  intuition,  or  inspiration,  so  far  from 
defining  it,  we  have  only  labelled  it  with  a  name  which  defies 
definition.  Great  artists,  statesmen,  discoverers  of  natural 
law,  social  and  religious  reformers,  move  in  a  sphere  beyond 
the  reach  of  other  men ;  they  are  linked  with  the  world  by 
all  natural  ties,  but  their  thought  seems  to  be  born  in  a 
sphere  above  the  world.  Their  fellow-men  have  naturally 
thought  of  them  as  seized  on  by  a  higher  power,  especially 
when  they  had  to  do  with  the  religious  life ;  the  word  "  inspira- 
tion "  has  been  almost  exclusively  set  apart  to  denote  the  deep 


24  INTEODUCTION. 

spiritual  knowledge  and  the  transforming  religious  energy 
which,  it  has  seemed  to  men,  could  issue  only  from  a  super- 
liuman  source.  It  is  the  word  which  expresses  for  our  or- 
dinary conception  the  mysteriousness  of  the  human  soul  in 
contrast  with  its  orderly  obedience  to  law.  These  two  ele- 
ments of  human  thought  are  harmonized  when  we  conceive 
of  it  as  the  creation  of  the  divine  spirit  working  according 
to  natural  law. 

4.  Such  an  eminently  endowed  leader  of  men  gives  so- 
ciety in  a  real  sense  something  new;  he  converts  into  an 
established  principle  and  rule  of  life  what  was  before  only 
a  vague  conception  or  desire.  The  undefined  sense  of  need 
which  for  generations  had  stirred  men  into  an  unrecognized 
uneasiness,  and  had  manifested  itself  in  inarticulate  cries 
rather  than  in  intelligible  words,  rather  by  gropings  than 
by  organized  action,  —  this  he  clearly  recognizes  and  formu- 
lates, and  then  offers  something  which  shall  satisfy  the  need, 
and  make  rational  and  happy  activity  possible.  Thencefor- 
ward the  life  of  society  is  changed ;  there  has  entered  into  it 
an  element  which  did  not  exist  before.  The  difference  be- 
tween the  new  and  the  old  is  the  difference  between  vision 
and  blindness ;  there  has  come  the  discovery  of  the  disease 
and  the  application  of  the  remedy.  JMen's  view  of  life  has 
changed ;  their  attitude  toward  the  facts  of  religious  experi- 
ence is  different.  The  proper  centre  is  established  ;  things 
group  themselves  more  naturally,  and  are  estimated  more 
nearly  according  to  their  real  nature  and  importance.  The 
discovery  that  the  Hebrew  vowel-points  were  not  given  to 
Moses  from  the  mouth  of  God  on  Mount  Sinai  was  a  veri- 
table liberation  of  thought.  The  declaration  of  Jeremiah 
and  Ezekiel,  that  the  true  divine  law  was  written  on  men's 
hearts,  must  have  been  revolutionary  for  the  circle  of  men 
who  believed  it ;  they  could  not  afterward  look  on  religious 
life   in   the  same  way  as  before.     A  wider   liberation  was 


GREAT  MEN.  25 

effected  by  the  moral-religious  principle  announced  by  Paul 
and  adopted  from  him  by  Luther,  that  righteousness  is  a 
transformation  of  soul  instead  of  a  string  of  legal  perform- 
ances. It  is  a  still  loftier  and  more  potent  principle  which 
is  contained  in  the  word  of  Jesus,  that  all  moral-religious 
life  is  summed  up  in  love  to  God  and  man.  When  such 
principles  as  these  have  been  announced  and  accepted,  so- 
ciety assumes  a  new  form.  What  was  before  shapeless  be- 
comes organized  and  regulated  ;  that  which  was  a  dim  longing 
becomes  a  definite  impulse.  Life  approaches  nearer  to  unity  ; 
there  is  less  disharmony  between  mind  and  soul,  between 
what  tradition  and  custom  sanctify  and  what  reflection  ap- 
proves, —  there  is  the  sense  of  the  removal  of  a  weight,  a 
fuller  freedom  of  activity  in  thought  and  feeling.  The  con- 
nection with  the  past  is  not  destroyed,  but  past  and  present 
are  renewed  into  a  higher  life. 

5.  The  part  played  by  individual  men  in  the  establish- 
ment of  great  universal  religions  is  well  known.  There  is 
no  doubt  as  to  the  process  of  origination  of  Christianity  and 
Islam ;  and  while  in  regard  to  Buddhism  scholars  are  divided 
in  opinion,  there  is  a  strong  disposition  to  trace  it  to  some  one 
man.  In  China  a  great  role,  no  doubt,  is  to  be  assigned  to 
Confucius ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  personality  of  the  Israeli- 
tish  Moses  is  dim,  and  the  Persian  Zoroaster  is  probably  to 
be  abandoned  to  the  region  of  legend  and  myth.  Socrates, 
Luther,  and  Wesley  embody  in  themselves  great  religious 
movements.  These  men  are  all  the  prophets,  the  spokes- 
men, of  the  religious  consciousness  of  their  times,  and  they 
are  no  less  independent  and  creative  thinkers.  It  is  neces- 
sary, therefore,  in  tracing  the  history  of  any  religious  move- 
ment to  take  into  account  these  two  elements,  —  the  religious 
attitude  of  the  epoch  and  the  personality  of  the  founder.  It 
is  only  by  combining  and  harmonizing  the  two  that  we  can 
reach  a  clear  idea  of   the  evolution   of   the   new  religious 


26  INTRODUCTION. 

principle.  It  is  a  misfortune  for  the  history  of  Buddhism 
that  the  person  of  Gautama  is  so  enshrouded  in  legend;  Mo- 
hammed is  better  known,  and  the  beginnings  of  Islam  far 
clearer.  For  Christianity  we  have  records  of  its  founder 
which,  though  embarrassed  by  legendary  additions  and  re- 
constructions, still  enable  us  to  form  a  tolerably  distinct 
picture  of  his  person  and  life  ;  and  this  is  the  first  task  of 
the  historian  of  Christianity. 

§  4.  ExTEKNAL  Conditions. 

Up  to  this  time  we  have  been  occupied  with  those  con- 
ditions and  agencies  which  within  the  community  itself 
initiate  and  direct  religious  progress.  But  it  is  possible  that 
a  community  may  be  affected .  by  its  neighbors.  Sucli  in- 
ternational influence  is  probably  the  rule  in  the  history 
of  religions ;  the  better  acquainted  we  become  with  the  old 
religious  faiths  of  the  world,  the  more  clearly  we  see  that 
they  are  not  simple  products  each  of  one  national  con- 
sciousness, but  have  all  more  or  less  freely  given  and  re- 
ceived. We  cannot,  of  course,  assume  in  any  particular 
case  that  such  international  action  and  reaction  have  oc- 
curred ;  the  question  is  to  be  decided  by  an  examination  of 
the  facts. 

1.  The  religious  influence  exerted  by  one  nation  on  an- 
other depends  for  its  extent  in  part  on  the  closeness  of  tlie 
intercourse  between  the  two.  The  relations  must  be  such 
that  there  is  an  exchange  of  individual  opinions  by  conver- 
sation or  by  books.  A  very  favorable  condition  for  inter- 
change of  ideas  is  contiguity  of  social  groups,  when  one 
community,  by  its  local  relations  to  another,  is  compelled  to 
become  acquainted  with  the  customs  and  opinions  of  its 
neighbor ;  a  good  example  of  this  is  furnished  in  the  early 
history  of  tlie  Jews  when  they  had  partly  conquered  Canaan, 
and  Israelitish  and  Canaanitish  communities  dwelt  side  by 


EXTERNAL  CONDITIONS.  27 

side,  intermarrying  and  coming  to  share  one  another's  ideas 
in  a  very  detinite  manner.  More  general  social  relations 
may  be  maintained  by  commercial  intercourse,  such  as  ex- 
isted among  all  the  national  groups  in  Canaan  and  Syria  in 
David's  time,  or  between  the  Tigris-Euphrates  valley  and 
the  Greek  and  other  residents  in  Asia  Minor  from  an  early 
period  ;  or  political  relations  may  induce  an  exchange  of 
ideas,  as  when  King  Ahaz  of  Judah,  going  to  Damascus  to 
meet  the  Assyrian  king,  Tiglathpileser,  saw  there  a  Syrian 
altar  the  pattern  of  which  he  sent  to  his  priest  Urijah  at 
Jerusalem  with  orders  to  make  one  like  it ;  or  as  when  Ma- 
nasseli,  as  it  would  appear,  adopted  the  Assyrian  astral  wor- 
ship ;  or  exile,  like  that  of  the  Jews  in  Babylonia,  may  bring 
about  intimate  social  relations.  After  the  rise  of  the  Persian 
empire  the  Jews  in  Babylonia  and  elsewhere  must  have  been 
constantly  in  contact  with  Persian  opinions  and  customs. 
The  Greek  conquest  of  Asia  in  the  fourth  century  B.  c.  in- 
troduced Greek  settlements  and  ideas  into  all  the  Western 
Asiatic  communities,  and  promoted  a  contact  of  mind  which 
was  eminently  favorable  to  the  adoption  of  new  ideas.  For 
some  centuries  before  Mohammed's  time  communities  of 
Jews  and  Christians  had  been  living  in  Arabia  in  the  closest 
personal  intercourse  with  the  natives.  In  India,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  the  period  when  Buddhism  arose,  there  seem 
to  be  no  traces  of  such  foreign  influence. 

2,  In  such  social  intercourse  we  may  commonly  assume 
reciprocal  influence,  —  each  community  will  be  more  or  less 
affected  by  the  other.  In  which  direction  the  greater  effect 
will  be  produced,  will  be  determined  by  the  relative  impres- 
sibility of  the  two  communities ;  and  this  will  depend  on 
their  relative  religious  development,  —  the  less  will  be  di- 
rected by  the  greater.  A  higher  general  social  culture,  more 
definite  opinions,  better  elaborated  institutions,  will  impress 
themselves  on  that  community  which  stands  lower  in  these 


28  DsTRODUCTIOX. 

respects.  Impressibility  will  come  from  the  natural  desire 
to  know  and  adopt  what  is  pleasing.^  The  Jews  were  in- 
ferior in  general  culture  and  in  certain  points  of  religious 
development  to  the  early  Canaanites,  the  Assyrians  and  Baby- 
lonians, the  Persians  and  the  Greeks ;  the  Arabians  of  the 
sixth  century  of  our  era  felt  the  religious  superiority  of  the 
Jews  and  Christians ;  the  direction  of  the  influence  was  in 
accordance  with  these  relations. 

3.  Another  favorable  condition  of  international  influence 
(closely  connected  with  the  first-mentioned)  is  the  excite- 
ment of  thought  arising  from  lively  social  movement.  The 
older  civilization  was  made  comparatively  stagnant  by  the 
fixedness  of  national  lines.  At  that  stage  of  growth  it  was 
instinctively  felt  that  national  isolation  was  a  necessity ; 
there  could  be  no  brotherhood  of  nations,  no  rapid  and 
stirring  interchange  of  thought.  But  all  this  was  changed 
by  the  Greek  conquest.  The  mixture  and  close  contact  of 
different  nationalities  forced  men  to  recognize  one  another, 
partly  obliterated  the  old  stiff  national  lines,  and  called  out 
a  hospitality  for  new  ideas  which  had  never  before  been  seen 
in  the  world.  Greeks,  Jews,  and  Eomans  came  into  close 
relation  with  one  another,  and  the  result  of  their  interchange 
of  ideas  may  be  traced  in  the  religious  history  of  the  time. 
The  interesting  point  for  our  discussion  is  whether  the  Jews 
were  materially  affected  by  the  Greeks. 

4.  The  borrowing  of  ideas  which  results  from  social  inter- 
course may  be  direct  or  indirect,  conscious  or  unconscious. 
There  are  cases  in  which  a  religious  reformer  has  deliberately 
borrowed  institutions  and  ideas  from  the  books  of  foreign 
religious  communities ;  so  Mohammed  did  from  the  Hebrew 

1  It  is  of  course  essential  tliat  a  relifjjioii,  in  order  tliat  it  may  be  influ- 
enced, should  not  liave  readied  the  jxuiit  of  petrifaction,  —  that  some  of  its 
material  should  he  in  a  fluid  state ;  and  in  ])oint  of  fact,  a  livin<^  community 
never  hardens  into  this  insensibility,  but  always  reserves  a  certain  power  of 
self-modification. 


EXTERNAL   CONDITIONS.  29 

and  Christian  Scriptures.^  Princes  and  priests  may  intro- 
duce new  forms  of  worship  ;  the  Eomans  adopted  Syrian 
deities  and  cults,  and  the  Greeks  appropriated  Egyptian 
symbols  and  ceremonies  ;  possibly  in  this  way  it  was  that 
the  feast  of  Purim  came  to  the  Jews  from  the  Persians. 

Perhaps,  however,  it  is  the  unconscious  influence  of  one 
community  on  another  that  is  the  more  deep  and  lasting. 
Ideas  represented  by  the  customs  and  expressions  of  one 
people  insensibly  make  their  way  to  others,  and  commend 
themselves  by  their  naturalness  and  utility,  by  their  capacity 
to  satisfy  an  existing  feeling  of  need.  They  may  at  first  be 
adopted  by  advanced  thinkers,  and  be  gradually  propagated 
in  the  lower  strata  of  society ;  or  they  may  receive  for  a  long 
time  no  definite  expression,  —  they  may  be  simply  in  the  air. 
Silently  they  make  themselves  felt ;  more  and  more,  genera- 
tion after  generation,  they  color  and  control  ideas,  opinions, 
and  usages.  Finally  they  find  expression  in  books  or  customs  ; 
the  community  accepts  them  as  something  quite  natural,  and 
wakes  up  to  find  itself  in  possession  of  thoughts  which  were 
unknown  to  the  fathers,  the  genesis  and  authority  of  which 
no  one  is  able  to  trace.  After  a  while  comes  a  period  of  re- 
flection which  seeks  to  bring  the  present  into  logical  relation 
with  the  past;  the  new  ideas  are  held  to  have  existed  in 
ancient  customs  and  writings,  back  to  which  they  are  fol- 
lowed in  an  unbroken  line,  and  the  silent  influences  which 
produced  them  pass  out  of  memory  and  rest  unrecorded. 
Effects  of  this  sort  could  doubtless  be  traced  in  the  history 
of  all  religions  if  the  data  were  sufficiently  numerous  ;  in 
later  Jewish  history  the  important  periods  in  this  regard 
are  the  Persian  and  the  Greek. 

5.    Tt  is  obvious  that  the  choice  which  a  community  makes 
in  borrowing  will  be  determined  largely  by  the  relation  of 

1  The  contents  of  these  writings  were  known  to  him,  not  by  his  own  read- 
ing, but  through  garbled  oral  communications. 


30  INTRODUCTION. 

the  new  ideas  to  the  existing  system  of  thought.  A  nation 
does  not  readily  abandon  its  conception  of  life  and  religion  ; 
there  is  a  definitely  fashioned  skeleton,  which,  however,  may 
be  clothed  anew  and  so  modify  its  form ;  there  is  a  persistent 
idea,  which  maintains  itself  against  all  assaults  from  with- 
out, yet  is  capable  of  assimilating  new  material,  of  extending 
and  defining  itself  by  modifications  which  do  not  touch  its 
essential  nature.  A  borrowed  idea  will  attach  itself  to  some 
recognized  thought  of  a  community ;  the  borrowing,  to  be 
healthy  and  beneficent,  must  be  a  free  assimilation,  not  a 
mechanical  addition,  and  fulness  of  life  may  be  measured  by 
the  capacity  for  natural  appropriation.  We  cannot  say  be- 
forehand how  far  this  process  of  assimilation  may  go ;  forms 
of  religion,  like  forms  of  organic  life,  seem  to  be  capable  of 
indefinite  variation  without  abandoning  the  type.  The 
question  what  constitutes  the  essence  of  a  religion  can  be 
answered  only  after  a  survey  of  its  complete  historical  de- 
velopment ;  it  is  only  then  that  we  can  perceive  what  has 
remained  fixed  amid  all  the  modifications  of  idea  and  usage. 

§  5.   The  General  Lines  of  Peogeess. 

The  advance  which  a  religion  makes  under  the  favorable 
conditions  above  described  will  be  in  accordance  with  the 
general  character  of  social  progress.  It  is  a  growth  from 
youth  to  manhood  ;  it  signifies  a  more  serious  view  of  life, 
a  deeper  conception  of  fundamentals,  a  sharper  analysis 
which  separates  the  higher  from  the  lower.  The  progress 
may  be  greater  or  less,  but  in  so  far  as  it  exists  at  all  we 
can  hardly  think  of  it  as  not  involving  a  change  from  the 
less  to  the  more  general. 

1.  One  natural  result  is  the  abandonment  of  local  usages. 
This  takes  place  in  a  nation  in  proportion  as  its  religion  is 
centralized,  and  as  a  civilized  unity  comes  into  existence.  A 
national  church  of  to-day  imposes  its  customs  on  all  parts 


THE   GENEEAL  LINES   OF  PROGRESS.  31 

of  the  land;  and  these  are  broader  and  more  human  than 
those  of  any  particular  district.  It  was  a  true  instinct  that 
led  the  Jews  of  the  seventh  century  B.  c.  to  insist  that  Je- 
rusalem should  be  the  only  lawful  place  of  worship ;  it  was 
the  only  way  to  wipe  out  the  unseemlinesses  of  the  local 
cults.  The  effect  is  wider  when  a  nation  is  forced  to  judge 
its  customs  by  the  standard  of  other  national  usages.  The 
broader  international  feeling  leads  men  to  dispense  with 
those  things  which  are  likely  to  offend  the  common  feeling. 
At  the  same  time  the  conviction  naturally  grows  that  such 
things  are  relatively  unimportant.  Yet  it  is  impossible  to 
say  beforehand  how  far  the  outward  form  will  be  retained. 
In  all  organized  systems  of  religion  up  to  the  present  time 
some  framework  of  form  has  been  found  to  be  necessary; 
and  experience  only  can  demonstrate  how  much  of  it  will 
prove  to  be  compatible  with  the  life  of  larger  societies. 
Buddhism  began  as  a  mendicant  order,  a  constitution  which 
would  have  excluded  the  majority  of  men ;  but  in  time  it 
modified  this  arrangement,  introducing  grades  which  recog- 
nized the  ordinary  social  relations,  yet  always  giving  greatest 
honor  to  the  original  form.  Judaism  took  the  same  course 
with  respect  to  circumcision,  not  always  insisting  on  it,  but 
still  making  it  the  badge  of  highest  religious  citizenship ; 
Paul,  with  the  instinct  of  genius,  took  the  bold  step  of  prac- 
tically abolishing  it.  jMohammed  showed  his  wisdom  in  the 
simplicity  of  the  forms  which  he  imposed  on  his  followers ; 
the  most  oppressive  of  them  —  the  pilgrimage  to  Mecca  — 
was  afterward  dispensed  with  in  various  simple  ways.  The 
Catholic  Church  has  means  of  lightening  its  ceremonial 
burdens  under  certain  circumstances.  It  is  the  instinct 
of  the  religion  which  guides  it  in  such  matters.  The  first 
and  most  important  step  is  its  extension  beyond  its  origi- 
nal national  bounds ;  having  passed  out  into  a  wider  world, 
it  will  know  how  to  change  its  form  according  to  circum- 


32  INTRODUCTION. 

stances,  and  its  capacity  to  do  this  will  be  a  measure  of  its 
success. 

2.  The  more  important  element  of  progress  is  the  general- 
ization of  ideas,  the  excision  of  the  local  and  sensuous,  and 
the  emphasizing  of  the  broadly  spiritual.  The  agencies  by 
which  this  is  effected  are  pointed  out  above.  The  growth 
of  national  self-consciousness,  the  development  of  thought 
which  naturally  attends  the  widening  of  social  relations,  ad- 
vance in  ethical  feeling,  the  rise  of  scientific  thought,  contact 
with  foreign  ideas,  —  these  occasion  a  constant  revision  and 
reformulation  of  religious  ideas  in  the  light  of  broader 
knowledge,  and  the  abandonment  of  such  things  as  offend 
the  finer  religious  sense.  The  Jews  after  a  while  gave  up 
the  national  proper  name  Yahwe,  substituting  for  it  the 
general  term  God,  or  some  such  paraphrase  as  The  Lord,  or 
The  Holy  One.  Islam  contented  itself  with  a  statement  of 
the  divine  character  and  government  so  simple  that  it  could 
be  understood  by  all  the  world.  Similar  processes  might  be 
traced  in  all  the  great  religions.  Here,  again,  it  is  impossible 
to  say  beforehand  what  direction  the  simplification  and  gen- 
eralization will  take.  This  will  depend  on  the  character  and 
needs  of  the  communities  involved,  and  will  always  be  ten- 
tative ;  that  is,  the  generalization  will  proceed  as  far  as  it  is 
forced  by  the  public  thought  to  go,  and  will  advance  only  in 
those  societies  in  which  it  proves  to  be  an  element  of  success. 
Althougli  force  has  been  often  used  in  tlie  propagation  of 
religions,  yet  to  explain  their  success  we  have  always  to  con- 
sider finally  their  capacity  to  adapt  themselves  to  the  social- 
religious  conditions  of  human  life.  Islam,  for  example,  has 
kept  itself  pure  only  in  Semitic  communities. 

3.  National  advance  in  breadth  and  elevation  of  thought 
does  not,  however,  account  for  the  rise  of  the  great  universal 
religions.  In  a  national  religious  system  most  diverse  ele- 
ments   are    mingled, — broad   and   narrow,   high   and   low, 


THE   GENERAL  LINES  OF  PROGRESS.  33 

attractive  and  repulsive.  These,  according  to  their  charac- 
ters, commend  themselves  to  different  circles.  The  victory 
of  new  ideas  is  gradual;  at  a  given  moment,  while  the 
farthest  advanced  line  of  thinkers  have  reached  pure  con- 
ceptions of  man's  relation  to  God,  a  large  mass  of  the  people 
may  be  buried  in  superstition,  formalism,  or  indifference. 
The  religious  books  and  creeds  will  show  the  same  diversi- 
ties, —  masses  of  noble  thought  embedded  in  low,  mechanical 
conceptions.  Or,  at  the  best,  the  national  development  may 
be  seeking  to  purify  and  elaborate  some  religious  element 
of  life  which,  though  not  witliout  virtue  and  potency,  is  not 
the  highest,  and  not  of  a  sort  to  commend  itself  outside  the 
limits  of  the  nation.  In  point  of  fact  this  is  what  seems  to 
have  occurred  in  the  case  of  Brahmanism  and  Judaism  ; 
Islam  does  not  here  come  under  consideration,  for  it  was 
invented  at  a  blow,  we  may  say,  out  of  almost  entirely 
foreign  materials.  In  this  mixture  of  national  religious 
opinions,  wdiat  is  needed,  in  order  to  secure  a  new  vitalizing 
impulse,  is  just  that  which  happened  to  the  Jews  at  the 
conclusion  of  the  Babylonian  exile.  They  went  to  Babylonia 
as  a  motley  mixture  of  good  and  bad,  —  a  comparatively  small 
prophetic  circle  which  shared  the  opinions  of  Jeremiah  and 
Ezekiel,  and  a  large  majority  whose  views  and  usages  are  set 
forth  in  the  naive  speech  made  by  the  men  and  women  in 
Pathros  in  reply  to  the  prophet  Jeremiah's  indignant  re- 
proof :  "  As  long  as  we  worshipped  the  queen  [or  host]  of 
heaven  we  were  happy ;  since  we  have  left  off  this  worship 
all  this  evil  has  come  upon  us."  The  exile  sifted  this  mixed 
community  ;  only  those  returned  to  Palestine  who  were  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  prophetic  ideas  and  could  begin  the  national 
life  on  a  new  basis.  And  in  the  same  way,  in  Babylonia  the 
idolatrous  portion  was  absorbed  in  the  alien  population,  and 
those  who  were  in  sympathy  with  the  higher  national  con- 
ceptions formed  a  separate  circle  and  lived  a  new  life.     The 


34  INTKODUCTIOX. 

starting-point  of  the  new  Jewish  life  was  the  selection  of  a 
new  idea  as  the  basis  of  organization ;  purified  from  alien 
elements,  this  idea  colored  and  controlled  the  whole  subse- 
quent national  development.  Some  such  process  is  neces- 
sary for  the  transformation  of  a  national  into  a  universal 
religion.  The  choice  of  a  central  idea  will  be  made  by  the 
whole  community,  under  the  leadership  of  individuals.  In 
the  exilian  and  post-exilian  history  of  the  Jews,  we  have 
glimpses  of  controlling  minds,  —  Ezekiel,  Zerubbabel,  Joshua, 
Ezra,  Nehemiah ;  and  if  we  were  better  acquainted  with  the 
history  of  the  Babylonian  Jews  of  that  period,  we  should  no 
doubt  find  there  also  men  whose  personal  influence  guided 
the  thought  of  the  community.  In  the  larger  religious 
movements,  as  is  remarked  above,  the  presence  of  a  con- 
trolling individual  mind  seems  to  be  necessary  to  give  unity 
and  effectiveness  to  the  new  development,  though  the  leader 
will  naturally  gather  about  him  a  body  of  coadjutors. 

4.  And  this  leads  to  the  mention  of  another  condition 
of  the  transition  to  a  universal  religious  form  which  is 
involved  in  what  has  just  been  said.  The  revolution  must 
be  a  product  of  the  times,  a  response  to  the  demand  for 
change,  the  outcome  of  generations  of  thought.  The  man 
or  the  men  who  appear  as  leaders  put  into  shape  (as  is  ob- 
served above)  what  many  of  their  contemporaries  had  indef- 
initely thought;  they  give  vitality  to  the  unorganized  mass 
of  vague  conceptions.  They  themselves  would  be  impossible 
without  the  background  of  the  community,  without  the 
accumulation  of  thought  which  they  inherit  from  the  past. 
This  is  obvious  in  so  many  cases  that  we  are  warranted  in 
assuming  it  to  be  probable  even  when  definite  facts  cannot 
be  adduced  in  proof.  There  is  evidence  that  jMohammed 
arose  out  of  a  circle  of  thinkers  who  represented  a  tendency 
of  the  times  ;  there  are  reasons  for  believing  that  the  founder 
of  Ijuddhisni  did  not  occupy  an  isolated  religious  position. 


THE   GENERAL  LINES   OF  PROGRESS.  35 

It  is  clear  that  Isaiah,  Jeremiah,  Ezekiel,  and  Ezra  were  true 
prophets  of  their  times,  the  spokesmen  of  select  groups  who 
were  in  sympathy  with  the  deeper  and  more  spiritual  thought 
of  their  periods.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Chris- 
tianity is  an  exception  to  this  general  principle. 

It  is  true  in  one  sense  that  the  success  of  a  religious  revo- 
lution depends  on  the  completeness  with  which  its  creator 
responds  to  the  needs  of  the  age.  Men  will  take  only  what 
seems  to  them  to  be  useful ;  popular  approbation  is  the  meas- 
ure of  practical  wisdom.  But  this  is  a  local  and  temporary 
criterion ;  it  does  not  follow  that  the  tendency  of  an  age 
is  the  best  possible,  or  its  satisfaction  the  absolute  right. 
A  reformer  may  go  far  beyond  the  conceptions  of  his  times, 
and  be  unsuccessful  because  not  understood.  To  be  imme- 
diately effective  he  must  stand  in  close  relation  with  his 
contemporaries,  and  it  is  not  conceivable  that  he  should  be 
entirely  out  of  relation  with  them.  But  it  is  possible  that 
while  one  side  of  his  thought  is  apprehended  and  accepted, 
another  and  higher  side  may  be  ignored.  In  that  case,  his 
highest  influence  will  vanish  unless  it  happen  that  he  find 
a  prophet,  —  an  interpreter  who  shall  know  how  to  link  his 
person  to  the  life  of  the  times,  and  thus  .  preserve  the  sub- 
stance of  his  uncomprehended  thought.  The  interpreter  will 
have  his  own  conception  of  the  person  and  work  of  the  mas- 
ter, and  may  initiate  a  new  direction  of  religious  thought,  as 
the  Apostle  Paul  substantially  did.  It  may  then  happen  that 
succeeding  times  shall  throw  off  what  is  local  in  the  thought 
of  tlie  interpreter,  and  return  to  the  idea  of  the  master,  of 
which  the  interpreter's  system  is  only  the  framework. 

5.  We  are  here,  of  course,  employing  the  term  "  universal " 
loosely  to  mean  what  is  endowed  with  practically  indefinite 
capacity  of  extension.  We  know  of  no  religion  which  experi- 
ence has  shown  to  be  really  universal.  No  religion  has  yet 
been  accepted  by  all  nations ;  and  we  should  hardly  be  war- 


36  IXTRODUCTION. 

ranted  in  going  beyond  the  b:junds  of  experience  and  affirm- 
ing that  this  or  that  religion  has  elements  which  must 
commend  it  to  all  peoples.  It  is  indeed  difficult  to  see  why 
Christianity  in  its  simplest  New  Testament  form  should  not 
prove  thus  universally  acceptable,  though  on  the  other  hand, 
it  is  impossible  to  say  how  far  this  simple  faith,  in  order  to 
commend  itself,  must  be  supported  by  a  more  elaborate  sys- 
tem. And  further,  even  when  a  religion  is  accepted  in  gen- 
eral by  a  nation,  it  may  be  rejected  by  a  considerable  circle. 
In  the  purest  and  highest  historical  religion  there  must  re- 
main something  local  and  temporary ;  and  the  question  to  be 
decided  by  time  will  be  how  far  it  can  dispense  with  this 
local  part  without  losing  its  essential  nature.  The  abso- 
lutely universal  religion  will  be  that  which  satisfies  univer- 
sal human  needs,  spiritual  and  intellectual,  lacking  nothing 
which  is  necessary  for  the  practical  guidance  of  human  life, 
containing  nothing  which  offends  the  most  advanced  thought, 
offering  and  claiming  nothing  which  is  not  capable  of  uni- 
versally acceptable  demonstration. 

§  6.  Extra-national  Extension. 
In  any  social  group  of  nations,  as  has  already  been  pointed 
out,  there  will  be  a  mutual  influence  of  their  religions,  ac- 
cording to  the  nature  and  extent  of  their  social  intercourse. 
In  general,  the  stronger  will  coerce  the  weaker.  The  ele- 
ments of  strength  and  weakness  are  various,  issuing  from  all 
the  social  phenomena,  and  these  latter  change  with  every  age 
and  clime.  There  are,  however,  a  few  conditions  of  interna- 
tional influence  which  from  the  testimony  of  history  we  may 
assume  to  be  common  to  all  those  great  movements  in  which 
a  religion  extends  itself  beyond  its  national  lines. 

1.  The  principal  condition  of  this  sort  of  conquest  is  the 
fact  already  mentioned,  —  the  possession  of  an  idea  broader 
than    national  areas.     There  must  be  something  that  com- 


EXTRA-NATIONAL  EXTENSION.  37 

mends  itself  to  the  human  soul  apart  from  national  feelings 
and  customs.  Further  than  this,  there  must  be  something 
that  appeals  to  the  age,  that  satisfies  a  need  felt  over  a  wide 
space  at  that  particular  time. 

2.  This  condition  presupposes  a  certain  unity  in  a  section 
of  the  world.  It  assumes  that  men  in  different  nations, 
starting  from  different  points  and  proceeding  along  different 
lines,  have  yet  reached  the  same  goal  of  religious  feeling  and 
desire.  It  is  the  teaching  of  history  that  some  such  unifica- 
tion as  this  is  essential  to  the  rise  of  a  religion  that  shall 
embrace  various  nationalities.  This  procedure  is  most  ob- 
vious in  the  history  of  the  rise  of  Christianity ;  the  Greek 
and  Eoman  conquests,  by  their  political  and  intellectual  re- 
sults, had  impressed  a  visible  unity  on  the  Western  world. 
The  fact  is  less  clear  in  the  histories  of  Islam  and  Buddhism ; 
but  here  also  we  can  see  that  natural  processes  of  culture 
had  brought  a  number  of  peoples  or  communities  to  about 
the  same  stage  of  intellectual-religious  growth,  or  it  may  be 
better  to  say,  to  a  point  where  real  sympathy  among  them 
in  the  religious  life  was  possible.  The  Arabs  of  the  first  cen- 
tury of  Islam  were  capable  of  appreciating  the  moral  and 
religious  ideas  of  the  Christians  and  Mazdeans  with  whom 
they  came  in  contact;  of  India  and  the  neighboring  lands 
we  have  less  information,  but  such  indications  as  exist  point 
to  a  similarity  in  the  social-religious  structure  of  the  various 
nationalities  affected  by  Buddhism. 

3.  The  progress  of  a  religion  implies  a  sense  of  need  in 
the  communities  to  which  it  commends  itself.  It  signifies  a 
failure  of  existing  religious  systems,  especially  in  peoples 
alien  to  the  home  of  the  new  religion.  ♦The  people  in  wdiose 
midst  a  new  creed  has  sprung  up  have  at  least  the  training 
of  the  ideas  which  produced  it.  This  training  has  not  been 
so  fully  enjoyed  by  foreign  peoples  ;  their  sense  of  need  and 
emptiness  will  be  all  the  more  pronounced.     Such  a  social- 


38  INTRODUCTION. 

religious  emptiness  is  distinctly  visible  in  tlie  areas  first  con- 
quered by  Christianity  and  Islam  ;  the  Eoman  world  was 
tired  of  Greek  and  Latin  divinities,  and  hopeless  of  anything 
better ;  the  Christianity  and  the  Mazdeism  of  the  seventh 
century,  when  Islam  appeared,  had  dwindled  into  shapeless 
masses  of  shrunken,  lifeless  dogmas  ;  ^  for  the  beginnings  of 
Buddhism  we  have  no  such  full  details,  but  we  may  perhaps 
infer  from  the  enthusiasm  and  vitality  of  Asoka's  edicts  that 
the  Brahmanism  of  the  preceding  centuries  had  left  a  vacuum 
in  the  popular  feeling.  The  national  mind,  thus  emptied  of 
distinct  convictions  and  hopes,  is  prepared  to  accept  a  well- 
defined  system  of  religious  thought. 

4.  The  conquering  religion  offers  what  is  needed  in  the 
way  of  precision  and  organization.  It  will  possess  not  only 
a  general  fundamental  religious  idea,  but  also  the  framework 
necessary  to  give  it  popular  acceptation.  A  simple  ethical- 
religious  conception,  however  broad  and  pure,  is  usually 
neither  intelligible  nor  acceptable  to  the  masses  of  men ; 
they  demand  in  addition  a  drapery  of  processes  and  forms, 
a  certain  quantity  of  machinery,  a  routine  by  which  life 
may  be  ordered.  There  is  no  instance  on  record  of  wide 
popular  acceptance  of  a  religious  system  whose  essence  was 
merely  a  principle  of  the  inward  life ;  there  is  no  reason  to 
suppose  that  a  reformer  who  should  confine  himself  to  this 
subjective  ethical-religious  sphere  would  be  successful  unless 
his  work  were  supplemented.  j\Iohammed  devised  a  system 
remarkable  not  only  for  the  purity  and  simplicity  of  its 
dogma,  but  also  for  the  mingled  simplicity  and  complete- 
ness of  its  ritual ;  Buddhism  initiated  a  set  of  forms  which 
satisfied  the  demand  for  guidance ;  Paul  supplied  a  dogmatic 
framework  for  the  ethical-religious  ideas  of  Jesus. 

It  is  from  this  non-ethical  dogma  and  form  that  spring  the 

'  Islam  appropriated  and  iufiLsed  life  into  high  moral  and  religious  ideas 
which  were  held  lifelcs.sly  by  the  ucigliboring  peoples. 


THE  UNIVERSAL  RELIGIONS.  39 

organization  and  the  enthusiasm  necessary  to  a  career  of 
victory.  It  is  not  hard  to  understand  why  a  purely  ethical 
idea  does  not  lead  to  organization ;  it  is  too  individual,  has 
too  few  points  of  contact,  common  to  all  men,  with  the  ex- 
ternal world.  A  conquering  religion  must  be  a  church  if  it 
is  to  have  a  visible  organized  victory.  Purely  ethical  ideas 
may  spread  and  get  control  of  men,  but  their  influence  is 
silent,  showing  itself  in  the  way  of  coloring  thought  and 
deed ;  they  do  not  clothe  themselves  with  that  bodily  form 
which  we  call  "  a  religion." 

III. 

We  may  conclude  this  sketch  of  the  principles  of  the  pro- 
gress of  religions  by  a  brief  mention  of  the  actual  results  as 
far  as  we  can  trace  them.  It  is  on  these  results  that  what 
is  said  in  the  preceding  pages  has  been  based.  Even  a 
bare  mention  of  the  facts  will  suffice  to  show  how  largely 
these  laws  of  progress  have  obtained,  and  what  different 
degrees  of  effect  they  have  had  in  different  nations  and 
under  different  circumstances. 

§  1.  The  Universal  Eeligions. 

It  may  at  first  be  surprising  that  of  all  the  religions  of 
the  world  only  three  have  grown  into  universal  form, — 
Brahmanism  into  Buddhism,  Judaism  into  Christianity,  and 
the  old  Arabian  faith  into  Islam.  It  would  be  more  accu- 
rate to  say  that  only  these  three  have  developed  into  effec- 
tive organizations.  There  may  be  universal  ideas  which 
from  tlieir  nature  are  not  capable  of  giving  rise  to  eccle- 
siastical organizations.  It  has  happened  in  the  case  of  these 
three  religions  that  the  circumstances  of  the  times  supplied 
both  the  living  ideas  and  the  necessary  framework  of  sec- 
ondary conceptions.      Nothing   is   more  remarkable  in  the 


40  INTRODUCTION. 

history  of  the  estabhshment  of  Islam  than  the  way  in  which 
Mohammed  fitted  Iiis  transforming  ideas  into  the  existing 
social  system,  wich  what  sagacity  he  recognized  popular  cus- 
toms and  opinions,  and  thus  made  the  popular  life  the  recep- 
tacle for  higher  conceptions  which  were  destined  to  transform 
it ;  in  a  word,  he  combined  an  idea  and  its  dogmatic  ritual 
clothing  into  a  unity  which  answered  the  demands  of  his 
time.  So  it  was  with  Christianity  and  Buddhism.  The 
other  outward  conditions  of  progress  also  were  fulfilled 
in  the  rise  of  these  three  religions,  —  religious  vagueness 
and  emptiness  around  them,  distinctness,  organization,  and 
enthusiasm  within  them.  We  can  see,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
that  the  world  was  prepared  for  them.  And  considering  the 
complexity  of  the  relations,  the  mass  of  conditions  to  be 
fulfilled,  it  cannot  be  surprising  that  the  number  of  great 
international  religions  has  been  small.  The  failure  of  a 
single  condition  may  be  fatal,  A  lack  of  completeness  in 
one  direction  may  confine  a  religion  to  the  bounds  of  its 
own  nation,  though  it  might  seem  otherwise  to  have  all  the 
requisite  conditions  for  general  extension.  That  this  has 
been  the  case  will  appear  from  a  brief  examination  of  some 
of  the  failures. 

§  2.   Stunted  and  Akrested  Groavths. 

It  may  be  said  from  one  point  of  view  that  all  religions 
tend  to  become  universal ;  that  is,  natural  growth  is  in  the 
direction  of  the  excision  of  the  local  and  the  retention  of  that 
only  which  satisfies  more  highly  cultivated  thought  and  feel- 
ing. In  fact,  however,  the  conditions  of  success  are  so 
numerous  that  the  probabilities  of  failure  are  great.  We 
find  a  gradation  in  the  history  of  religions,  cases  of  more 
or  less  serious  effort  to  transcend  national  bounds,  with 
varying  degrees  of  success  or  failure. 


STUNTED  AND   ARRESTED   GROWTHS.  41 

1.  The  nearest  approach  to  speculative  universality  was 
achieved  by  the  Greek  philosophy  which  followed  Plato  and 
Aristotle,  especially  by  the  Stoics.  The  conception  of  the 
unity  of  the  world  was  practically  established  in  Greek 
philosophic  thought  at  the  close  of  the  fifth  century  B.C., 
about  the  time  when  the  Jews  were  beginning  to  formulate 
their  practical  monotheism.  The  Stoics  affirmed  the  unity 
of  the  world  in  a  more  thorough  manner  than  the  Jews,  and 
rather  speculatively  than  practically.  They  worked  out  a 
system  of  morals  in  some  respects  so  complete  that  it  com- 
manded the  admiration  of  the  world,  and  for  centuries  satis- 
fied the  ethical  craving  of  the  best  minds  of  Greece  and 
Eome.  Here  was  apparently  the  foundation  for  a  universal 
religion,  —  ideas  of  life  almost  completely  divorced  from  local- 
national  conceptions.  In  fact,  Stoicism  had  a  great  career. 
Its  ideas  penetrated  into  all  parts  of  the  lioman  empire, 
leaving  no  cultivated  community  or  circle  untouched  or 
uncolored  by  their  influence,  —  not  even  Jewish  Palestine, 
so  much  disposed  to  hold  itself  aloof  from  heathen  thought. 
They  were  in  the  air,  and  could  not  be  excluded. 

Nevertheless,  Stoicism  did  not  become  a  popular  religion  ; 
as  a  system  it  remained  the  possession  of  the  cultivated  few, 
and  for  obvious  reasons.  It  lacked  the  theologic  framework 
which  was  essential  for  wide  popular  effect.  In  its  thorough- 
going speculative  unification  of  the  world  and  its  determined 
recognition  of  rigid  natural  law,  it  reduced  the  deity  to  a 
minimum,  and  it  took  no  practical  account  of  the  future  life. 
These  were  fatal  lacks.  And  further,  in  its  endeavor  to  real- 
ize what  it  regarded  as  the  absolute  good,  it  undertook  to 
obliterate  the  emotional  side  of  man  and  transform  him  into 
a  machine  for  the  production  of  right  will.  This  will  was 
made  dependent  on  right  thinking ;  thus  resulted  an  admi- 
rable ideal  of  the  perfect  man,  whose  reflections  were  always 
just  and  his  decisions  rational.     But  it  was  an  ideal  beyond 


42  INTRODUCTION. 

the  conception  of  the  people,  —  practically  no  God,  no  life 
to  come,  no  full  flow  of  passionate  human  desire.  Stoicism 
remained  an  idea  capable  of  coloring  the  world's  thought,  but 
incapable  of  creating  an  organized  religion.  It  began  in 
speculation,  and  never  as  a  system  advanced  beyond  specu- 
lative circles.  Judaism,  on  the  other  hand,  felt  its  way 
cautiously,  constantly  keeping  in  touch  with  human  needs 
and  fashioning  itself  so  as  to  satisfy  them. 

The  same  thing  is  to  be  said  of  other  Greek  and  Eoman 
systems  of  philosophy.  They  had  their  universal  side,  but 
failed  to  take  account  of  all  the  elements  of  life  of  their 
time. 

2.  Confucianism  has  labored  under  a  similar  onesideness. 
With  a  carefully  wrought-out  ethical  system,  the  object  of 
which  is  to  make  the  man  a  beneficent  member  of  society, 
it  has  scant  recognition  of  the  theological  or  purely  religious 
side  of  human  nature,  it  is  silent  or  non-committal  with 
respect  to  the  future  life.  It  is  the  religion  of  the  learned, 
but  not  of  the  masses  in  China.  Its  ethical  universality  has 
enabled  it  to  pass  the  bounds  of  its  own  nation  and  find  some 
footing  in  Japan  and  other  neighboring  countries  where 
Chinese  influence  has  been  predominant,  but  further  than 
this  it  has  not  gone  and  is  not  likely  to  go.  Not  only  does 
it  lack  universal-religious  ideas,  so  that  in  fact  it  can  hardly 
be  called  a  religion  at  all ;  its  ethical  system  also  is  largely 
colored  by  national  peculiarities.  The  State -religion,  as  dis- 
tinct from  (yonfucius's  special  teaching,  has  a  defined  wor- 
ship which  is  not  without  a  monotheistic  tinge  ;  but  the 
cult  is  decidedly  national,  and  the  Emperor  is  the  sole 
ministrant. 

?}.  In  the  old  Egyptian  religion  we  have  an  example  of  a 
steady  advance  in  the  direction  of  both  religious  and  ethical 
universality,  a  pronounced  monotheism  in  higher  circles  of 
thought,  and   a   very  noble  moral  code.     But  this  broader 


STUNTED  AND  ARRESTED  GROWTHS.        43 

religious  movement  seems  not  to  have  become  national ;  there 
was  no  such  sifting  process  as  took  place  among  the  exiled 
Jews ;  the  people  remained  polytheists.  Egyptian  ideas 
penetrated  to  some  extent  into  the  Greek  and  Eoman  em- 
pires ;  in  Alexandria  they  were  doubtless  amalgamated  with 
Greek  and  Jewish  conceptions  ;  but  they  were  too  much  bound 
to  the  soil  by  their  theologic  and  ritual  clothing,  and  could 
offer  the  world  nothing  so  distinct  and  satisfactory  as  that 
which  was  brought  by  Judaism  and  Christianity.  The  Isis- 
cult,  though  it  made  its  way  into  Syria,  Greece,  and  Eome, 
was  forced  to  yield  to  a  more  powerful  rival. 

The  Persian  religion  —  a  remarkable  and  noble  attempt  to 
embody  in  religious  creed  the  everlasting  conflict  of  human 
life  —  suffered  under  the  double  burden  of  a  somewhat 
complicated  theology  and  a  local  ritual.  That  which  was 
universal  in  its  religious  conception  never  found  distinct 
expression,  or  if  it  did  finally  struggle  into  utterance,  this 
was  not  till  after  Christianity  had  got  possession  of  the  field. 
Maniclueism  was  an  attempt  to  combine  the  two  rival  sys- 
tems, but  it  liad  the  power  of  neither,  and  proved  an  utter 
failure.  Mazdeism  was  never  able  to  subordinate,  as  Juda- 
ism did,  the  evil  principle  absolutely  to  the  good ;  it  was 
half-hearted,  and  therefore  without  power  over  foreign  peo- 
ples. This  is  a  part  of  the  explanation  of  the  inglorious 
way  in  which  it  succumbed  to  Islam. 

4.  The  tendency  to  universality  is  visible,  not  only  in 
national  religions,  but  also  in  certain  great  Christian  com- 
munities, as  the  national  churches  of  England  and  Germany. 
These  churches  have  for  centuries  embodied  the  religious 
thought  of  the  national  mind,  and  have  reflected  the  national 
progress.  It  is  always  a  comparatively  small  body  of  think- 
ers that  in  any  generation  represents  the  advance ;  but  if  we 
take  the  Church  of  England,  for  example,  it  is  evident  that 
it   represents  to-day,  as  compared  with  the  Church  of  the 


44  INTRODUCTION. 

sixteenth  century,  an  avoidance  of  the  local  and  particularis- 
tic, and  an  emphasizing  of  those  elements  of  religion  which 
appeal  to  all  men.  The  same  thing  may  be  said  of  the 
Church  of  Eome,  which  is  becoming  more  catholic,  not  only 
in  the  extent  of  its  territory,  but  also  in  the  hospitality  it 
offers  to  broader  religious  ideas.  A  similar  progress  may  be 
perceived  in  other  great  Christian  bodies  which  have  no 
connection  with  the  State, 

§  3.  National  and  Tribal  Eeligions. 
The  great  mass  of  the  religions  of  the  world  have  failed  to 
pass  beyond  the  communities  in  which  they  originated.  This 
remark  must  be  understood,  however,  as  applying  to  them 
only  in  the  comparatively  advanced  stage  in  which  we 
actually  find  them.  The  hundreds  of  tribes  dwelling  in 
Asia,  Africa,  America,  and  Oceanica,  each  with  its  apparently 
petrified  and  motionless  religion,  have  all  had  their  histories ; 
what  inward  development  and  outward  extension  may  have 
taken  place  in  remote  times  through  amalgamations  and  con- 
quests, we  cannot  tell.  Nor  is  it  possible  to  say  with  cer- 
tainty what  changes  are  now  in  progress,  since  we  are  so 
slightly  acrpiainted  with  the  condition  of  the  barbarian 
peoples  of  the  world.  Some  of  them,  it  is  known,  have 
elaborate  cosmogonies  and  mythologies  and  a  great  mass  of 
folk-lore,  implying  a  long  development  in  some  past  pe- 
riod. But  granting  the  possibility  of  small  movements  and 
growths,  it  is  no  doubt  true  that  the  barbarous  religions  of 
to-day  are  confined  within  the  limits  of  their  own  commu- 
nities, and  there  is  no  sign  among  them  of  the  intellectual 
activity  which  is  necessary  to  progress. 

§  4.   The  Outlook. 

1.    Tlie  present  indications  are  that  a   few  great  religions 
will  in  time  control  the  whole  world.     Buddhism,  Christian- 


THE   OUTLOOK.  45 

ity,  and  Islam  now  occupy  a  great  part  of  the  globe,  and  the 
last  two  are  advancing  in  various  directions.  The  majority 
of  barbarous  religions  have  shown  themselves  unable  to  hold 
their  ground  against  the  inroads  of  intellectually  and  eth- 
ically superior  faiths.  Of  the  old  national  religions,  those 
of  India,  China,  and  Japan  alone  show  anything  like  solidity 
of  organization  and  capacity  of  resistance,  and  of  these  the 
Japanese  seems  to  be  not  disinclined  to  accept  European 
ideas. 

2.  As  between  the  three  great  universal  religions  there 
can  be  little  doubt  as  to  where  the  prospect  of  victory  lies. 
Eeligion  follows  in  the  wake  of  social  progress,  and  it  is  this 
last  that  determines  the  relations  among  nations.  Chris- 
tianity (to  say  nothing  of  its  moral  and  spiritual  superiority) 
is  the  religion  of  the  great  civilized  and  civilizing  nations  of 
the  world,  in  whose  hands  are  science  and  philosophy,  litera- 
ture and  art,  political  and  social  progress.  European  and 
American  civilization,  in  its  gradual  encroachment  on  the 
other  peoples  of  the  world,  necessarily  carries  along  and 
plants  Christianity. 

3.  This  implies  that  the  other  great  religions  of  the  world 
will  not  be  able  to  adapt  themselves  as  systems  to  the  new 
social  order  of  things.  Some  parts  of  their  apparatus  of 
creed  may  survive,  some  view  of  life  may  commend  itself  to 
the  new  civilization  and  enter  into  and  color  the  established 
European  creed  ;  but  if  we  may  judge  from  the  present  con- 
dition of  the  Asiatic  peoples,  their  religions  must  as  systems 
pass  away  with  the  civilizations  to  which  they  belong. 

4.  Nor  is  it  probable  that  Christianity,  if  it  should  be  the 
sole  survivor  of  the  world's  religious  creeds,  would  retain  its 
present  form  unmodified.  It  is  more  likely  that  it  will  from 
generation  to  generation  feel  the  double  influence  of  territo- 
rial expansion  and  inward  development  of  thought.  Having 
the  whole  world  for  its  heritage,  it  will  adapt  itself  to  the 


46  INTRODUCTION. 

worlds  needs ;  and  standing  always  in  close  contact  with  the 
world's  highest  thought,  it  will  throw  off  from  time  to  time 
what  it  feels  to  be  opposed  to  the  purest  ethical-religious 
conception  of  life,  and  retain  only  that  which  the  best 
thought  of  the  time  demands. 

The  preceding  sketch  attempts  to  give  the  principles  of 
religious  progress  in  general  outline.  That  there  will  be  ex- 
ceptions to  or  modifications  of  such  general  rules  is  to  be 
expected.  The  almost  infinitely  diversified  local  conditions 
will  give  peculiar  turns  and  colorings  to  the  various  develop- 
ments, and  these  form  the  material  of  special  histories.  But 
amid  all  differences,  it  is  important  to  recognize  the  working 
of  those  general  laws  which  both  explain  individual  peculiar- 
ities, and  stamp  unity  on  human  religious  history. 


THE 

DEVELOPMENT  OF  RELIGIOUS  THOUGHT 

FROM  OLD  TESTAMENT  TO  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


IN  tracing  the  history  of  Jewish  religious  ideas  into  the  New 
Testament  times,  it  is  proper  to  begin  with  the  period 
represented  by  the  name  of  Ezra.  The  introduction  of  the 
complete  Levitical  legislation  is  a  most  important  turning- 
point  in  Jewish  religious  history ;  it  transformed  the  nation 
into  a  church,  and  gave  a  new  coloring  to  the  whole  national 
life,  or  to  state  the  fact  in  more  general  terms,  it  was 
coincident  with  the  beginning  of  what  may  be  called  mod- 
ern Judaism,  the  Israelitish  life  as  it  appears  in  the  New 
Testament. 

The  results  attained  by  Israelitish  thought  up  to  Ezra's 
time  may  be  summed  up  in  a  few  particulars,  which  appear 
with  sufficient  distinctness  in  the  literature. 

First,  the  nation  had  reached  the  point  of  practical  mono- 
theism, the  conviction  that  in  general  the  affairs,  not  only 
of  Israel,  but  also  of  the  whole  world,  were  controlled  by  the 
God  of  Israel.  This  belief  appears  in  the  prophetic  writings 
from  Amos  to  Zechariah.  The  prophets,  as  the  great  reli- 
gious thinkers  of  the  period,  are  its  formulators  and  ex- 
pounders. They  were  not  its  creators ;  it  grew  out  of  the 
necessities  of  the  national  life,  but  naturally  took  distinctest 
shape  and  received  best  expression  from  the  most  advanced 
minds.     The  approach  to   monotheism  was  a  gradual  one; 


48  DEVELOPMENT   OF   RELIGIOUS  THOUGHT. 

idolatry  was  rife  among  the  people  down  to  and  during  the 
Babylonian  exile.  The  captivity  sifted  the  mass  of  the 
people ;  the  adherents  of  the  monotheistic  tendency  in  Baby- 
lonia were  drawn  into  close  relations  with  one  another  (this 
we  may  infer  from  the  subsequent  developments),  and  those 
who  returned  to  Canaan  shared  the  same  views.  It  was 
by  no  means  a  theoretical  and  thorough-going  monotheism 
which  was  held ;  we  shall  see  that  alongside  of  the  belief 
in  the  practical  aloneness  of  Yahwe,  the  existence  of  other 
deities  was  admitted,  and  the  power  of  Yahwe  therefore  rep- 
resented as  limited.  But  happily  this  logical  inconsistency 
seems  to  have  had  no  practical  results,  and  after  a  time 
vanished  before  the  increasing  firmness  of  the  monotheistic 
faith. 

In  the  next  place  the  nation  had  worked  out  a  reasonably 
sound  and  satisfactory  system  of  practical  social  ethics. 
The  moral  principles  which  we  find  in  the  prophets  and  the 
law  books  show  a  high  state  of  ethical  culture,  culminating 
in  the  precept,  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself " 
(Lev.  xix.  IS).  Only  it  has  to  be  observed  that  the  "neigh- 
bor "  here  is  one's  fellow-countryman  ;  it  was  not  supposed 
that  the  obligation  of  love  extended  beyond  the  bounds  of 
Israel ;  international  ethics  was  no  more  recognized  by  the 
Jews  than  by  any  other  people  of  that  day. 

The  organization  of  public  worship  in  the  temple  was 
completed  by  the  end  of  the  fifth  century ;  some  modifica- 
tions were  afterward  introduced,  but  the  sacerdotal  system 
of  the  New  Testament  is  substantially  that  of  the  time  of 
Ezra.  The  effect  of  this  rigid  organization  was  first  to  iso- 
late the  people  from  their  neighbors,  and  secondly  to  confirm 
and  develop  the  legal  conception  of  life,  —  the  idea  that  ev- 
ery act  is  prescribed  or  regulated  by  special  divine  command, 
and  that  the  perfect  man  is  he  who  knows  and  obeys  these 
prescriptions.     The  system  was  the  essence  of  national  par- 


DEVELOPMENT  OF   RELIGIOUS   THOUGHT.  49 

ticularism,  favorable  to  intensity  in  one  direction,  unfavor- 
able to  breadth  and  catholicity ;  fortunately  it  was  afterward 
to  some  extent  modified  by  the  conditions  of  the  national 
life.  We  are  of  course  not  to  look  on  the  Tora  (as  the  Law 
now  came  to  be  called)  as  something  forcibly  injected  into 
the  national  life  from  without,  and  intrusively  moulding  it. 
The  divine  instruction  {tora)  had  been  gathering  volume  for 
centuries,  and  the  national  feehng  had  been  moving  toward 
the  conviction  that  this  instruction  was  its  organic  law;  but 
when  this  function  had  been  distinctly  recognized,  and  the 
law  embodied  in  a  complete  code,  it  entered  into  the  national 
life  as  one  of  its  main  factors.  It  was  by  no  means  the  only 
factor  —  other  elements,  religious  and  ethical,  were  potent  — 
but  this  determined  the  form  of  life  and  the  constitution  of 
the  State. 

One  other  fact  must  be  mentioned,  —  the  form  which  the 
Jewish  Messianic  hope  had  assumed  in  Ezra's  time.  The 
term  "  ]\Iessianic "  does  not  properly  belong  to  this  period ; 
it  was  the  product  of  the  ideas  of  a  later  time.  But  the 
hope  which  it  implies  had  been  long  in  existence ;  it  was  a 
natural  product  of  the  conviction  of  Yahwe's  care  for  Israel, 
—  a  sort  of  belief  and  hope  that  have  no  doubt  existed  among 
all  nations,  but  received  among  the  Jews  peculiarly  definite 
expression  and  exerted  a  peculiarly  lasting  and  profound  in- 
fluence. It  had  already  passed  through  various  phases  in 
Israel.  Amos,  Hosea,  Isaiah,  and  Micah  looked  simply  for 
deliverance  from  Assyrian  attacks  and  the  happy  ethical- 
religious  maintenance  of  the  existing  political  organization ; 
Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel,  with  the  same  hope  of  deliverance 
from  political  enemies,  perceived  also  the  need  of  spiritual 
transformation,  and  made  a  new  heart  the  condition  of  the 
era  ;  the  later  exilian  prophets  (whom  we  may  group  under 
the  name  of  Deutero-Isaiah)  were  absorbed  in  the  prospect 
of  restoration  to  Canaan  and  the  vision  of  the  triumph  of 

4 


50  DEVELOPMENT   OF   RELIGIOUS  THOUGHT. 

Israel's  worship  over  all  the  nations;  the  prophets  of  the 
return,  Haggai  and  Zech.  i.-viii.,  sinking  down  from  these 
pictures  of  glory  to  the  hard  realities  of  their  present,  con- 
fined themselves  to  the  task  that  lay  before  them,  of  rebuild- 
ing the  temple  and  securing  a  feeble  foot-hold  in  the  promised 
land.  The  form  of  the  expectation  of  national  triumph  had 
varied  from  time  to  time  according  to  the  condition  of  the 
national  fortunes.^  In  the  fifth  century  came  a  lull:  the 
temple  had  been  built,  but  nothing  more  had  been  accom- 
plished ;  bare  existence  was  all  that  the  colony  had  achieved. 
The  advent  of  Ezra  and  Nehemiah  fixed  attention  on  the 
legal-religious  organization  of  the  nation,  and  for  the  moment 
there  was  neither  time  nor  inducement  to  follow  the  glowing 
pictures  which  the  old  prophets  had  given  of  the  future. 
The  little  community  was  undergoing  a  transformation,  and 
had  to  await  further  developments  before  it  could  resume 
its  outlook  into  the  future. 

It  is  at  this  point  that  we  begin  our  study.  We  are  to 
trace  the  history  of  the  Jewish  religious  ideas  from  the  fifth 
century  on  (going  farther  back  when  it  seems  desirable),  and 
to  follow  them  into  the  New  Testament  times.  While  Tales- 
tine  is  the  centre  of  the  movement,  we  shall  have  to  include 
also  those  phases  of  thought  which  we  find  among  the  Egyp- 
tian Jews,  and  other  Israelitish  communities,  and  those  Per- 
sian and  Greek  influences  which  seem  to  have  left  their  trace 
on  Jewish  theology.  Instead  of  taking  the  history  by  peri- 
ods, we  may  trace  the  development  of  each  common  line  of 

1  See,  for  oxample,  the  political  and  roliojions  constitution  of  the  future. 
Generally  the  nation  as  a  whole  is  alone  spoken  of;  Jeremiah  (xxiii.  5)  and 
Ezekiel  (xxxiv.  2.3,  etc.)  include  the  royal  dynasty  as  a  part  of  the  established 
order.  An  individual  king  as  leader  is  mentioned  in  four  passages,  —  Isa.  ix.  6, 
7  {Ileb.  ix.  5.  6) ;  xi.  1-9  ;  Mic.  v.  2  (Ileb.  v.  1 ) ;  Zech.  ix.  9,  —  all  of  which  seem 
to  be  post-exilian.  The  priesthood  does  not  receive  special  mention  till  the 
time  of  Ezekiel  (xliv.  l.-S);  nearly  contemporary  is  Jer.  xxxiii.  14-26,  which 
is  an  expanded  recension  of  Jer.  xxiii.  5-8.  The  order  is  prominent  in  Zecha- 
riah,  Malachi,  and  Joel. 


DEVELOPMENT   OF   RELIGIOUS   THOUGHT.  51 

religious  thought  continuously  into  the  New  Testament. 
This  plan  has  the  advantage  of  presenting  each  doctrine 
as  a  unit,  and  of  bringing  out  under  each  head  more  distinctly 
the  continuity  of  progress. 

Before  beginning  the  discussion  it  will  be  proper  to  give 
a  brief  survey  of  the  non-Christian  Jewish  sources  of  the 
history. 


CHAPTER  I. 
the  litekature. 

§  1.   The  Liteeary  DeveloPxMent. 

THE  period  on  which  we  now  enter,  from  Ezra  to  the 
beginning  of  the  second  Christian  century,  was  one 
of  great  mental  activity  and  varied  literary  productiveness. 
It  offers  no  such  sustained  compositions  as  the  second  Isaiah 
and  Job,  at  least  nothing  that  rivals  these  in  imaginative 
flight  and  literary  skill;  we  have  instead  a  multitude  of 
larger  and  smaller  writings  representing  various  tendencies 
of  thought,  among  them  one  at  least,  the  Wisdom  of  Solo- 
mon, which  deserves  a  place  among  the  Jewish  classics. 
The  old  isolated  life  of  the  nation,  with  its  self-centred 
calmness,  was  at  an  end ;  the  era  of  closer  international 
relations  had  begun,  and  this  for  the  politically  unstable 
little  Jewish  community  meant  constant  contact  with  novel- 
ties, new  intellectual  and  religious  excitements  and  literary 
ventures.  There  are  few  of  the  literary  products  of  the 
period  that  are  not  interesting  in  themselves,  but  we  shall 
consider  them  only  in  so  far  as  they  bear  on  the  history  of 
religious  thought. 

The  literary  history  is  by  no  means  formless.  We  recog- 
nize the  passage  from  propliecy  through  ritual  history  and 
romances  to  philosophy,  lyrical  poetry,  and  apocalypse,  the 
return  to  history  especially  for  the  portraiture  of  the  great 
Maccabean  era,  and  then  apocalypse  again,  with  history  and 
theology.  A  brief  sketch  of  this  development  will  suffice 
here  ;  the  material  of  the  books  will  be  used  in  the  course  of 
the  discussion. 


THE   LITERARY   DEVELOPMENT.  53 

1.  Prophetic  Writings.  The  old  prophecy  had  spent  its 
strength;  after  the  exile  it  was  no  longer  what  it  had 
been,  and  in  our  period  it  is  only  the  shadow  of  its  former 
self.  It  had  successfully  carried  through  the  first  great 
movement  of  Israelitism,  —  it  had  crushed  idolatry  and 
established  monotheism;  and,  this  foundation  laid,  the  na- 
tional thought  had  turned  to  other  things.  The  great  legal 
movement  —  the  ritual  organization  of  the  nation  —  had  su- 
perseded the  old  spontaneous  utterance  of  prophetic  men. 
Eeligion  was  becoming  more  an  affair  of  rule  and  reasoning ; 
the  divine  word,  instead  of  issuing  in  burning  words  from 
the  souls  of  seers,  was  fixed  in  a  book.  This  was  not  neces- 
sarily a  religious  retrogression,  —  it  was  rather  a  natural  and 
necessary  progress  in  reflection,  —  but  it  gave  a  new  turn  and 
tone  to  the  literature.  Yet  there  still  came  occasionally  the 
breath  of  the  prophetic  impulse,  though  in  comparatively 
feeble  form. 

After  the  building  of  the  temple  the  maintenance  of  the 
worship  was  naturally  the  pressing  question.  About  460 
B.  c.}  the  prophet  who  is  known  by  the  name  of  Malachi 
was  moved  to  reprove  the  people  for  their  negligence  in 
bringing  offerings  to  the  temple.  Seeing  in  the  priests  and 
Levites  the  hope  of  the  nation,  he  predicted  a  coming  day 
of  Yahwe  which  should  purify  them  and  usher  in  an  era  of 
complete  religious-moral  unity  for  Israel.  It  is  an  interest- 
ing point  in  his  short  prophecy  that  he  records  the  existence 
of  practical  religious  scepticism  and  the  beginning  of  the 
closer  social-religious  life  (Mai.  iii.  14-16). 

It  is  after  a  considerable  interval  that  we  meet  with  two 
productions  which  have  the  clear  stamp  of  the  legal  period, 

^  A  date  before  the  reform  of  Ezra  and  Nehemiah  is  to  be  preferred  on 
the  grounds  that  the  Levites  are  not  definitely  distinguished  from  the  priests 
(Mai.  ii.  4  ;  iii.  3),  and  that  the  strict  marriage-regulations  of  Ezra  (Ezra  x.) 
seem  not  to  be  in  force  (Mai.  ii.  11). 


54  THE   LITERATURE. 

and  probably  fall  after  the  Greek  conquest  of  Palestine.^ 
Zech.  ix.-xiv.  is  occupied  with  various  local  relations,  the  petty 
States  around  Jerusalem,  the  conflict  between  the  people  of 
the  city  and  the  people  of  the  country  districts,  and  looks 
forward  to  a  great  catastrophe,  the  result  of  which  shall  be 
that  Judah  shall  be  ceremonially  sacred  to  Yahwe,  and  that 
all  the  nations  of  the  earth  shall  come  up  to  Jerusalem  to 
worship.  The  course  of  events  is  marked  by  the  fact  that 
the  existing  prophetic  institution  is  expected  to  fall  into  dis- 
repute (Zech.  xiii.  3-9) ;  the  writer  feels  himself  to  be  apart 
from  the  prophetic  herd,  whose  inspiration  he  connects  with 
an  unclean  spirit.  The  political  and  religious  condition  of 
the  people  was  lamentable  (Zech.  x.  12-14;  xi.  ;  xiii.  2),  but 
our  prophet,  recalling  the  old  form  of  government,  has  the 
vision  of  a  coming  king,  righteous  and  devoid  of  pride,  saved 
by  God,  and  extending  the  dominion  of  Judah  over  all  the 
nations  (Zech.  ix.  9,  10).  Joel  also  expects  a  catastrophe 
from  which  Judah  shall  issue  in  safety  to  abide  forever.  It 
is  noteworthy  that  he  mentions,  as  characteristic  of  the  com- 
ing time  of  blessedness,  the  universal  diffusion  of  the  spirit 
of  prophecy  among  all  classes,  young  and  old,  bond  and  free, 
male  and  female  (Joel  ii.  28-32  [ffch.  iii.],  cf.  Xum.  xi. 
29);  the  prophesying  seems  to  be  defined  as  dreaming 
dreams  and  seeing  visions,  and  is  introduced  as  a  mark 
of  Yahwe's  specific  and  intimate  presence  among  his  people. 
Zechariah  looks  at  the  corruptness  of  present  prophecy  ;  Joel 
hopes  for  a  revival  of  the  true  spirit.  In  both  writers  we 
observe  more  glow  than  is  found  in  the  prophets  of  the 
return.  With  the  firmer  organization  of  the  Palestinian 
colony  came  a  revival  of  the  old  hopes  and  a  more  strenuous 
assertion  of  political  nationality.  It  is  sufficient  to  mention 
the  short  polemic  against  idolatry,  entitled  the  "  Epistle  of 

1  See  the  references  to  the  Greeks,  Zech.  ix.  13,  Joel  iii.  6,  auil  to  the  de- 
veloped ritual,  Zech.  xiv.  12-21,  Joel  ii.  15-17, 


THE   LITERARY   DEVELOPMENT.  55 

Jeremiah,"  belonging  perhaps  to  the  latter  part  of  the  third 
centnry. 

2.  The  complete  reconstruction  of  the  national  life  under 
the  control  of  the  Law  naturally  led  to  the  desire  to  rewrite 
the  old  history  from  a  new  point  of  view.  The  books  of 
Chronicles,  Ezra,  and  Nehemiah  recount  the  national  fortunes 
from  the  accession  of  David  to  near  the  end  of  the  fourth 
century,  —  Chronicles  representing  the  full  Levitical  ritual 
as  having  been  in  existence  from  the  first,  and  describing 
in  a  multitude  of  unhistorical  details  the  constant  and  vis- 
ible intervention  of  Yah  we  in  the  nation's  affairs ;  Ezra  and 
Nehemiah,  on  the  other  hand,  are  sober  in  their  statements. 
These  books  belong  not  far  from  the  year  300  b.  c.,^  and  give 
the  first  complete  historical  view  of  the  Israelitish  constitu- 
tion as  a  theocracy.  The  Greek  1  Esdras  adds  no  important 
particulars. 

3.  Chronicles  marks  a  new  tendency  in  historical  compo- 
sition. The  older  books,  —  Judges,  Samuel,  Kings,  —  com- 
posed in  or  near  the  exile,  had  indeed  interpreted  the  -p&st 
in  the  light  of  their  present,  and  regarded  it  as  an  illustra- 
tion of  the  truth  that  national  success  was  dependent  on 
obedience  to  the  nation's  God.  Chronicles  conceives  of  the 
history  more  distinctly  as  the  embodiment  of  an  idea,  the 
illustration  of  which  is  the  main  function  of  the  facts.  The 
chronicler's  idea  was  one  which  entered  into  the  very  essence 
of  the  Israelitish  thought  of  his  time,  and  represented  in 
general  the  outcome  of  the  history.  It  was  Yahwe's  guid- 
ance of  Israel  under  the  government  of  the  Law  and  the 
temple-ritual.  But  it  was  natural  that  the  idea  should 
coerce  the  facts.     Legendary  material  there  is  in  abundance 

1  The  close  connection  between  the  three  books  is  generally  recognized ; 
see,  especially,  the  genealogical  lists  in  1  Chron.  i.-ix.,  Ezraii..  Neh.  vii.  The 
list  of  high-priests  is  brought  down,  in  Neh.  xii.  11,  to  Jaddua,  who,  accord- 
ing to  Josephus  (Ant.  xi.  8,  4),  held  the  office  when  Alexander  came  to 
Jerusalem,  b.  c.  332. 


56  THE   LITERATURE. 

in  the  earlier  histories  ;  but  it  is  a  natural  growth  which 
has  incorporated  itself  organically  into  the  real  history, 
while  a  large  part  of  the  embellishment  of  Chronicles  has 
the  air  of  an  artificial  addition.  It  may  be  to  some  extent 
a  real  traditional  coloring,  but  seems  in  many  cases  to  be 
due  to  the  imagination  of  the  writer,  who  could  conceive  of 
the  past  only  under  the  form  of  the  present,  and  writes  the 
story  accordingly.  The  result  at  any  rate  is  thorough-going 
ritual  reconstruction,  a  new  nicely  rounded  history  in  which 
the  well-known  characters  of  the  books  of  Samuel  and  Kings 
play  roles  foreign  to  the  prophetic  conception.  The  Chroni- 
cler gained  his  end,  —  his  work  is  a  literary  success  ;  but  it  is 
a  religious  romance  rather  than  a  sober  history.  Such  remod- 
elling of  the  old  material  under  the  control  of  an  idea,  with 
free  handling  of  the  facts,  was  made  possible  by  the  literary 
conditions  of  the  time  :  there  was  no  scientific  conception  of 
the  value  of  facts  as  the  only  embodiment  of  human  history ; 
there  was  no  critical  public ;  manuscripts  were  few  and  little 
read ;  they  were  written  for  sympathetic  circles,  and  having 
obtained  the  approval  of  the  literary  minority,  might  pass  on 
to  the  general  public  unchallenged  and  uncontrolled.  The 
inducement  was  great  to  use  the  past  freely  as  a  mere  vehicle 
of  moral  teaching.  Already  in  the  historical  parts  of  the 
Pentateuch  the  old  stories  had  been  lavishly  employed  to 
this  end.  There  was  a  natural  conservative  desire  to  estab- 
lish the  present  in  and  by  the  past ;  and  the  Jewish  mind 
(it  is  a  Semitic  trait)  preferred  objective  historical  portrait- 
ure to  abstract  discussion.  A  century  after  the  production 
of  Chronicles  this  tendency  manifested  itself  in  a  group  of 
works  of  which  four  have  come  down  to  us ;  a  larger  group 
there  probably  was,  —  it  is  not  likely  that  these  four  are  all 
that  were  produced,  —  and  we  have  perhaps  a  trace  of  one 
such  story  in  the  episode  of  Darius  and  the  three  young  men 
in  1  Esdras  iii.,  iv.     The  romances  which  have  been  preserved 


THE   LITERARY   DEVELOPMENT.  57 

are  Jonah,  Esther,  Judith,  and  Tobit ;  they  seem  all  to  be- 
long in  the  period  from  250  to  150  B.  c. 

The  book  of  Jonah  embodies  a  religious  sentiment  strik- 
ingly broad  and  lofty  in  comparison  with  the  reigning  Jewish 
particularism  of  the  time;  it  represents  God  as  caring  for 
heathen  peoples  not  less  tenderly  and  completely  than  for 
Israel.  How  far  this  embodies  the  thought  of  a  wider  circle 
it  is  hard  to  say ;  we  find  scarcely  the  trace  of  such  a  con- 
ception elsewhere  in  this  period. 

The  sentiment  of  Esther  is  precisely  the  opposite  of  this. 
It  is  fierce,  intolerant  nationalism.  Its  principal  design 
seems  to  be  to  commend  to  Palestinian  Jews  the  feast  of 
Purim  (cf.  "the  day  of  Mardochoeus"  in  2  Mac.  xv.  36), 
which  it  represents  as  having  been  established  in  commemo- 
ration of  a  great  national  deliverance.  The  author  of  the 
Hebrew  work  is  so  absorbed  in  his  picture  of  the  prowess 
and  triumph  of  the  Jews  that  he  makes  no  mention  of  God 
and  shows  no  consciousness  of  religion  ;  this  defect  is  reme- 
died in  the  Greek  recension,  which  inserts  among  other  things 
prayers  offered  by  Mordecai  and  Esther,  and  a  vision  with 
theocratic  interpretation. 

The  motive  in  Judith  seems  to  be  merely  to  comfort  and 
inspire  the  people  in  a  time  of  distress  by  the  picture  of  a 
remarkable  divine  intervention,  —  by  the  hand  of  a  woman 
the  God  of  Israel  discomfits  mighty  enemies.  The  de- 
tails of  the  narrative  may  rest  on  some  obscure  tradition, 
but  can  be  brought  into  relation  with  no  known  facts  of 
history. 

In  Tobit  we  have  a  charming  picture  of  family  life,  re- 
flecting the  political  conditions  and  religious  ideas  of  the 
author's  time.  It  is  the  first  example  of  a  novel  proper,  —  a 
tale  in  which  the  interest  lies  chiefly  or  largely  in  incidents 
of  every-day  life.  The  moral  lesson,  however,  is  not  lacking; 
the  religious  faithfulness  of  Tobit  is  rewarded  with  family 


58  THE   LITERATURE. 

prosperity,  and  by  the  victory  which  his  son  gains  over  the 
fiend  Asmodicus. 

4.  The  more  definitely  reflective  tendency  of  the  time 
appears  in  the  group  of  philosophical  works,  hooks  of  Wis- 
dom, which  seem  to  have  been  composed  a  little  later  than 
the  romances,  about  from  230  B.  c.  to  130  b.  c,  comprising 
Proverbs,  Ecclesiastes,  The  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  and  The 
Wisdom  of  the  Son  of  Sirach.  The  Jews  had  no  meta- 
physics, no  attempts  at  organized  systems  of  thought ;  their 
philosophy  consists  of  detached,  practical  reflections  on  life. 
The  beginning  of  this  species  of  composition  is  referred  by 
the  tradition  to  Solomon.  Popular  proverbs,  embodying  ob- 
servation of  simple  facts  of  experience,  doubtless  existed  at 
an  early  time  ;  and  there  may  have  been  wise  men  who  ut- 
tered pithy,  practical  sayings  as  early  as  Solomon,  or  earlier. 
Put  the  form  of  the  books  which  have  come  down  to  us  is 
late;  their  religious  ideas,  at  least,  are  those  of  the  legal 
period.  The  composition  of  such  works  implies  a  reflective 
spirit  which  belongs,  in  the  course  of  the  national  develop- 
ment of  thought,  naturally  after  the  prophetic  period. 

The  book  of  Proverbs  is  no  doubt  the  result  of  numerous 
collections  made  at  different  times.  ]\Iuch  of  the  material 
in  the  middle  portion  of  the  book,  consisting  of  maxims  of 
experience  in  common  life,  may  be  old,  but  it  has  all  been 
worked  over  under  the  influence  of  the  late  religious  thought. 
Chapters  i.-ix.,  by  their  broad,  rounded  style,  and  by  the 
personification  of  Wisdom  in  chapter  viii.,  belong  to  the 
latest  period  of  the  collections  ;  and  the  hints  of  social  and 
political  conditions  in  the  concluding  chapters  suggest  the 
times  of  Greek  control. 

The  social  framework  of  Ecclesiastes  is  that  of  the  city- 
civilizatif)n  of  the  Greek  period,  complicated  social  relations, 
political  instability,  organized  social-religious  life.  The  au- 
thor's negative  and  indifferentistic  conception  of  life  suggests 


THE   LITERARY  DEVELOPMENT.  59 

an  influence  of  the  Greek  Cynical  philosophy  which  was 
firmly  established  on  the  north  coast  of  Africa  in  the  third 
century  B.  c.  The  way  in  which  he  combines  a  distinct  the- 
istic  faith  with  a  practical  scepticism  is  not  entirely  satisfac- 
tory. One  would  suppose  that  his  belief  in  the  absolute 
divine  control  of  things  would  enable  him  to  look  on  life 
with  something  like  cheerfulness  and  hope  ;  but  he  sees  noth- 
ing in  the  world  worth  the  devotion  of  the  soul ;  he  has  no 
enthusiasm ;  his  highest  effort  is  to  enjoy  what  exists,  and 
refrain  from  useless  longings  and  hopes.  All  things,  he 
says,  come  alike  to  all ;  time  and  chance  happen  to  all ;  man 
knows  not  his  time,  and  is  taken  like  birds  caught  in  a  snare. 
When  he  does  counsel  energy  and  intensity  in  living,  it  is 
from  the  reflection  that  there  is  nothing  beyond  this  life : 
"  Whatever  thy  hand  finds  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might ;  for 
there  is  no  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor  wisdom,  in 
Sheol,  whither  thou  goest"  (Eccl.  ix.  10).  Certain  variations 
in  the  thought  might  suggest  that  the  book  is  not  a  unit ; 
the  epilogue,  xii.  9-14,  is  the  work  of  a  later  hand,  but  in 
the  body  of  the  book  the  seeming  discrepancies  may  be  sat- 
isfactorily explained  as  the  oscillations  of  thought  of  a  Jew 
tinged  with  Greek  sceptical  philosophy,  holding  to  his  faith 
in  God  and  to  his  veneration  for  righteousness  and  wisdom, 
but  convinced  of  the  emptiness  of  things,  the  futility  of  am- 
bition, and  the  folly  of  enthusiasm.  The  result  is  that  he 
holds  himself  aloof  from  the  great  world,  looking  on  its 
feeble  struggles  and  passions  with  pitying  but  not  unfriendly 
eye,  and  reserving  to  himself  a  quiet  enjoyment  of  the  pres- 
ent, without  disturbing  thought  of  the  future.  The  moral 
tone  of  the  book  is  high,  and  its  general  effect  is  to  give 
us  a  large  view  of  life.  It  seems  to  have  been  written  in 
Egypt  about  the  year  200  B.  c,  and  doubtless  represented  the 
opinions  of  a  certain  circle.  It  stands,  however,  outside 
the  general  Jewish  development ;   the  views   expressed  by 


60  THE  LITERATURE. 

its  author  can  only  have  colored  Jewish  thought  in  a  general 
way. 

We  find  an  equally  pronounced  but  entirely  different  Greek 
influence  in  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  —  orthodox  Judaism 
lighted  up  by  Platonic  and  Stoic  philosophy,  or  Platonism 
and  Stoicism  interpreted  by  Jewish  theology.  In  contrast 
with  Ecclesiastes,  the  author  has  warm  faith  in  God  and  in 
human  life,  conviction  that  all  things  are  ordered  by  the 
Divine  Providence,  that  God  is  the  Saviour  of  all,  that  there 
remains  for  all  men  life  beyond  the  grave,  and  in  the  present 
life  the  universal  divine  love :  "  Thou  lovest  all  the  things 
that  are,  and  abhorrest  nothing  that  thou  hast  made  ;  for  if 
thou  hadst  hated  anything,  thou  wouldst  not  have  made  it ; 
.  .  .  thou  sparest  all  because  they  are  thine,  0  Lord,  lover  of 
souls  "  (Wisd.  xi.  24-2  u).  The  gist  of  the  book  is  the  praise 
of  wisdom,  —  divine  wisdom,  of  course,  —  the  insight  into 
life  which  belongs  to  God  and  comes  to  man  through  com- 
munion with  God.  Its  personification  of  Wisdom  amounts 
almost  to  a  hypostatic  conception ;  and  there  are  few  pas- 
sages in  ancient  philosophy  more  eloquent  than  those  in 
which  the  author  describes  her  being  and  functions.  The 
use  of  the  book  is  visible  in  the  New  Testament  (vii.  22, 
cf.  James  iii.  17;  vii.  26,  cf.  Heb.  i.  2). 

The  Wisdom  of  the  Son  of  Sirach  is  cast  in  a  purely 
Jewish  mould  and  stands  in  close  relation  with  the  middle 
part  of  the  Old  Testament  book  of  Proverbs,  with  which  it 
agrees  in  general  in  its  theology.  It  seems  to  have  been 
written  in  Palestine  (or  possibly  in  Egypt),  in  Hebrew,  and 
to  have  been  translated  into  Greek  in  Egypt  about  b.  c.  132.^ 
Much  of  its  ethical  material  is  found  in  the  New  Testament. 


'  The  second  Prologue  gives  the  tliirty-eighth  year  of  Eucrgctcs  as  the 
date  of  translation.  The  king  meant  is  prohahly  the  second  of  the  name, 
called  Physcon,  whose  thirty -eighth  year,  reckoning  from  the  time  when  he 
first  ascended  the  throne,  falls  in  132. 


THE   LITERARY   DEVELOPMENT.  61 

5.   In  the  romances  and  books  of  Wisdom  we  can  trace 
the  general  moral-religious  thought  of  the  Jews  in  the  first 
half  of   the  Greek  period.     During  the  same  period  there 
had  been  slowly  growhig  a  literature  which  arose  out  of  the 
needs  of  the  temple-service,  —  religious  hymns,  giving  expres- 
sion to  national  feeling  on  various  occasions,  and  constituting 
our  present  book  of  Psalms.     The  meagreness   of  the  data 
makes  it  difficult  to  trace  in  detail  the  history  of  Hebrew  lyri- 
cal poetry.    There  are  one  or  two  odes  (Isa.  xii.,  Hab.  iii.)  which 
may  belong  to  the  pre-exilian  time,  and  the  book  of  Job  is 
placed  by  many  critics  in  the  Babylonian  exile  (though  it  is 
probably  later).     There  are  some  of  the  Psalms  also  —  as  Ps. 
cxxxvii.  —  which  seem  to  have  been  composed  at  that  time. 
But  the  theology  and  the  historical  conditions  of  the  great 
body  of  the  songs  of  our  Psalter  indicate  the  Greek  period 
as  the  time  of  their  composition.     In  them  the  ritual  is  well 
established ;  the  nation  is  a  church ;  the  wicked  are  mostly 
foreign  oppressors ;  the  righteous  and  meek  are  Israelites ; 
prophecy  no  longer  exists,  but  the  nation  is  righteous  as  a 
whole.     Such  odes  must  have  come  into  existence  not  only 
after  the  establishment  of  the  full  temple-ritual,  but  also 
after  the  politically  annihilated  nation  had  begun  to  feel  the 
weight  of  the  oppressor's  arm.     Some  of  the  Psalms  (xliv., 
Ixxiv.,  Ixxix.,  and  others)  belong  to  the  Maccabean  period ;  and 
while  in  many  cases  there  are  no  certain  signs  of  date,  the 
probabilities  are  that  the  body  of  the  Psalter  came  into  ex- 
istence after  the  year  350  b.  c.     The  book  is  a  most  precious 
mine  of   religious   thought ;    out  of  it  the  theology   of  the 
Greek  period  may  be  constructed  with  considerable  fulness 
and  certainty. 

It  will  suffice  to  mention  the  Song  of  Songs  as  an  isolated 
production  of  the  Jewish  literature  of  the  period.  All  that 
can  be  certainly  said  of  it  is  that  it  is  a  poem  in  praise  of  love. 
As  it  is  totally  devoid  of  religious  feeling,  it  throws  no  light 


62  THE   LITERATURE. 

ou  the  history  of  Jewish  rehgious  development.  Its  claim  to 
our  interest  lies  in  its  literary  charm  and  in  the  indication  it 
gives  of  the  cultivation  of  non -religious  literature  among 
the  Jews. 

6.  The  preceding  sketch  has  brought  the  history  of  the 
literature  down  to  about  the  first  part  of  the  second  century 
B.  c.  We  come  now  to  a  group  of  works  which,  beginning 
about  the  middle  of  this  century  and  going  on  two  or  three 
hundred  years,  embody  a  remarkable  and  significant  phase  of 
the  Jewish  national  feeling.  The  apocalypse  was  a  natural 
product  of  the  times  of  Greek  and  Eoman  oppression,  and  of 
Maccabean  triumph.  It  was  born  of  the  old  prophetic  hopes 
and  the  present  needs ;  it  was  the  interpretation  which  the 
hard  reality  forced  on  the  glowing  promises  of  the  past. 
The  prophets  had  predicted  the  glorious  establishment  of 
Israel  in  its  own  land,  under  its  own  rulers,  and  the  triumph 
of  the  religion  of  Yah  we  over  all  the  nations  of  the  earth. 
The  prophetic  spirit  died  out;  no  seers  arose  to  kindle  new 
hope  by  the  free  prophetic  portraiture  of  the  future  on  the 
basis  of  the  present.  The  old  prophetic  liberty  of  thought 
had  vanished ;  its  inward  and  outward  conditions  no  longer 
existed.  Inwardly  there  had  come  hard  and  unelastic  social- 
religious  organization  ;  outwardly  the  political  conditions 
pressed  on  the  people  with  relentless  reality,  —  the  Egyptian 
and  Syrian  Greek  kingdoms  and  the  Eoman  empire  were 
hard  facts,  not  to  be  dealt  with  as  the  old  prophets  had 
dealt  with  Edom,  Damascus,  Assyria,  and  Babylon.  But 
the  popular  imagination  necessarily  turned  to  the  future ; 
the  promised  deliverance  must  speedily  come.  The  feeling 
naturally  arose  that  the  best  way  to  comfort  and  inspire 
the  people  in  the  present  suffering  was  to  paint  the  glorious 
future  in  glowing  colors.  No  doubt  it  seemed  to  many  that 
the  set  time  had  come;  prophets  had  in  many  places  de- 
clared that  the  final  day  of  triumph  was  to  be  preceded  by 


THE   LITERARY   DEVELOPMENT.  63 

a  night  of  oppression,  and  surely  there  could  be  no  sorrow- 
greater  than  this  sorrow  of  Israel  in  the  hands  of  heathen 
enemies,  its  law,  its  religion,  its  life,  scoffed  at  and  trampled 
under  foot. 

The  form  which  these  consolatory  writings  assumed  was  a 
development  of  the  old  vision.  To  the  pre-exilian  prophets 
the  divine  revelation  came  mostly  as  a  clear,  intelligible  word 
of  rebuke  or  promise ;  occasionally  there  was  a  brief  vision, 
as  in  Amos,  Isaiah,  Habakkuk.  In  Ezekiel  we  have  a  sud- 
den expansion  of  the  revealing  picture,  —  he  sees  in  a  vision 
the  whole  religious-political  constitution  of  the  restored 
Israelitish  State.  In  the  first  Zechariah  this  form  of  reve- 
lation occupies  a  still  greater  space ;  it  is  in  this  w^ay  that 
he  presents  all  that  he  has  to  say  of  the  future  (when  a  pres- 
ent question  is  to  be  solved,  chapter  viii.,  he  falls  into  straight- 
forward discourse).  The  content  of  the  prophetic  visions  is 
small,  and  limited  to  the  immediate  future.  But  when,  un- 
der the  Greek  dominion,  the  Jews  came  into  closer  contact 
with  great  kingdoms,  and  became  acquainted  with  the  suc- 
cession of  empires,  it  was  natural  that  the  function  of  the 
vision  should  be  enlarged ;  it  came  to  present  a  philosophy 
of  history,  a  sketch  of  the  progress  of  the  world-kingdoms 
under  the  government  of  the  God  of  Israel  in  the  interests 
of  his  people.  Since  the  exile  the  history  of  the  world  had 
been  wonderful :  empire  after  empire  had  arisen  only  to  fall 
before  a  stronger  successor ;  it  was  well,  so  thought  the  Jew, 
to  point  out  that  this  was  only  God's  preparation  for  bring- 
ing on  the  appointed  day  of  judgment  and  deliverance.  The 
fashion  arose  of  putting  reviews  of  history  into  the  mouths 
of  seers.  It  was  necessary  that  the  assumed  seer  should 
live  at  the  beginning  of  the  period  embraced  in  the  vision ; 
according  to  the  starting-point,  whether  in  the  patriarchal 
time,  or  during  the  exodus,  or  in  the  exile,  or  later,  Enoch  or 
Moses  or  Daniel  or  Ezra  or  some  other  was  selected  as  the 


64  THE   LITERATURE. 

organ  of  the  revelation.  This  procedure  was  in  accordance 
also  with  the  taste  of  the  times,  which  delighted  to  find 
authority  for  its  own  opinions  in  tlie  person  of  some  ancient 
sage  or  saint.  The  symbolic  form  of  these  writings  often 
makes  them  obscure;  but  the  author's  date  may  frequently 
be  determined  from  his  historical  allusions,  and  from  the 
general  fact  that  his  description  down  to  his  own  time  is  a[;t 
to  be  full  and  vivid,  and  after  that  to  become  meagre  and 
vague. 

The  book  of  Daniel,  the  first  in  order  of  the  apoca- 
lypses, traverses  the  period  from  the  Babylonian  kingdom  of 
Nebuchadnezzar  to  about  the  death  of  Antiochus  Epiphanes, 
B.  c.  164.  The  seer  is  a  Jewish  prince,  brought  a  captive  to 
Babylon,  educated  in  Chaldean  astrological  science,  and  ele- 
vated to  posts  of  trust  under  Nebuchadnezzar  and  Darius ; 
he  is  probably  an  old  legendary  figure  (see  Ezek.  xiv.  14). 
In  different  visions  he  portrays  the  four  world-kingdoms  of 
Babylon,  Media,  Persia,  and  Greece,  coming  in  the  last  to  a 
detailed  description  of  Antiochus.  His  chronology  (which 
irreconcilably  contradicts  history)  is  based  on  the  seventy 
years  of  Jeremiah  (Jer.  xxv.  12)  which  he  converts  into 
seventy  year-weeks,  four  hundred  and  ninety  years,  for  the 
period  from  Cyrus's  decree  of  restoration  to  the  deliverance ; 
that  is,  practically  to  his  own  day  (Dan.  ix.  24,  25).  The 
oppression  is  to  end  (xi.  45)  with  the  death  of  Antiochus ; 
the  angel  Michael,  the  guardian  prince  of  Israel,  will  tlicn 
intervene,  and  the  wise  and  pure  shall  be  blessed  and  the 
wicked  punished.  At  this  point  the  author,  with  noteworthy 
soberness,  abruptly  closes  his  description.  The  book  is  valu- 
able for  its  picture  of  the  religious  life  and  thought  of  the 
time  of  Judas  Maccabasus.  It  presents  not  an  individual 
Messiah,  but  only  a  triumphant  people  (vii.  21-27)  ;  it  teaches 
the  resurrection  of  Israelites,  —  some  to  glory,  some  (the 
apostates)  to  contempt  (xii.  2). 


THE   LITERARY   DEVELOPMENT.  G5 

The  book  of  Enoch  was  composed  somewhat  later  than 
Danifil,  to  which  it  is  greatly  inferior  in  literary  charm  and 
religious  impressiveness.  It  consists  of  several  distinct 
parts,  belonging  to  different  periods.  The  original  work, 
which  has  the  form  of  a  revelation  to  Enoch,  describes 
the  sin  of  the  angels  (Gen.  vi.),  their  subsequent  evil 
doings  and  punishment,  the  places  of  reward  for  the  chosen 
and  punisliment  for  the  wicked  (with  much  astronomical 
lore),  and  finally  the  history  of  the  world  from  the  crea- 
tion to  the  Messianic  time.  A  long  interpolation,  consist- 
ing of  three  Parables,  deals  with  the  last  judgment  of  right- 
eous and  wicked,  which  is  conducted  by  the  ]\Iessiah  ;  in 
this  section  is  inserted  from  another  hand  a  revelation  to 
Noah  respecting  the  flood  and  the  evil  angels.  The  book 
is  a  rich  storehouse  of  material  in  the  subjects  with  which 
it  has  to  do,  and  not  a  few  of  its  angelological  and  eschat- 
ological  ideas  appear  in  the  New  Testament  (Jnde  and  the 
Eevelation).  Its  fondness  for  superhuman  machinery  comes 
in  part  from  its  subject-matter,  and  is  an  evidence  of  the 
activity  in  this  direction  that  prevailed  in  the  second  and 
following  centuries,  though  how  much  of  its  contents  be- 
longs to  the  thought  of  the  age,  and  how  much  is  peculiar 
to  the  authors,  it  is  hard  to  say.  In  the  original  portion  the 
Messiah  is  a  man  (xc.  37),  and  appears  after  the  chosen  peo- 
ple have  returned  to  the  Lord  ;  he  is  preceded  by  a  great 
deliverer  (xc.  9),  who  is  to  be  identified  either  with  Judas 
Maccabaius  (B.C.  168-161)  or  with  John  Hyrcanus  I.  (b.  c. 
135-107).  The  Parables  give  a  different  representation  :  not 
only  does  the  ^Messiah  (called  the  Chosen  One  and  the  Son 
of  Man)  conduct  the  judgment  and  usher  in  the  state  of 
blessedness  (xlv.  3,  4),  but  he  is  said  to  have  been  chosen 
before  the  world  was  created  (xlviii.  6).  Such  conceptions, 
foreign  to  all  other  Jewish  pre  Christian  thought,  suggest 


66  THE  LITERATURE. 

a  Christiau  author  or   editor.     The  ParaWes   draw   largely 
from  Ezekiel  and  Daniel.^ 

The  work  which  has  come  down  to  us  under  the  name 
of  the  Sibylline  Oracles  is  a  congeries  of  many  fragments 
of  various  dates.  In  imitation  of  the  heathen  sibyls,  it 
details  the  various  parts  of  the  history  of  the  world  for  the 
purpose  of  introducing  the  glorious  future  of  the  chosen 
people.  The  pictures  of  this  future  vary  little  from  those 
already  described ;  at  a  given  moment,  when  the  oppression 
has  become  intolerable,  God  hitervenes,  destroys  the  enemies, 
and  saves  his  people.  In  some  cases,  a  personal  Messiah  is 
introduced.  The  more  important  pieces  are  found  in  the 
third  book,  vs.  97-210,  which  are  probably  to  be  assigned 
to  the  middle  of  the  second  century  B.  c.'-^ 

The  book  of  Baruch  is  of  uncertain  date  (hardly  earlier,  in 
its  present  form,  than  the  second  century  B.  c.)  and  of  indef- 
inite content,  containing  only  the  prediction  that  Jerusalem 
shall  be  restored.  The  thouglit  is  a  reproduction  of  the  older 
literature,  the  second  part  (chs.  iii.-v.)  following  especially 
Job  and  Isaiah. 

The  Assumption  of  Moses  is  a  prediction  of  the  estabhsh- 
ment  of  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  it  was  probably  composed  not 
far  from  the  beginning  of  our  era. 

A  more  interesting  work  is  the  Psalter  of  Solomon,  —  a 
collection  of  eighteen  psalms  written  apparently  not  long  after 
the  death  of  Pompey  (b.  c,  48),  in  a  period  of  great  depres- 


1  The  hook  of  Enoch  was  proliahly  originally  written  in  Hebrew  or 
Aramaic,  and  thence  translated  into  Greek;  it  now  exists  only  in  an  Etiu()])ic 
translation  made  from  the  Greek;  the  best  Ethiopic  text  is  that  of  Dillmann, 
Leipzig,  1851.  An  excellent  English  translation  (witli  introduction  and 
notes)  is  that  of  G.  H.  Schodde,  Andover,  1882.  For  the  critical  literature, 
see  James  Drummond,  "The  Jewi.sli  Messiah,"  London,  1877,  Schodde's 
above-mentioned  translation,  and  Schurcr's  ''  Hist,  of  the  N.  T.  Times." 

2  See  the  editions  of  J'riedlieb,  Leipzig,  1852,  and  Alexandre,  Paris,  1869. 


THE   LITERARY   DEVELOPMENT.  67 

sioii  (ii.  30,  31).  Modelled  after  the  older  psalms,  it  is  full 
of  cries  for  help,  and  beseeches  God  to  raise  up  the  righteous 
king  who  shall  rule  over  Israel,  crush  wicked  rulers,  and 
purify  Jerusalem  from  the  heathen  who  are  trampling  it 
down  to  destruction.  The  author's  view  is  clearly  limited 
to  the  immediate  future,  and  he  seems  to  expect  nothing 
more  than  the  re-establishment  of  the  old  royal  rdgime  in 
righteousness  and  truth. 

The  book  of  Jubilees,  which  describes  the  primeval  times 
by  periods  of  fifty  years,  hardly  deserves  mention  here  ex- 
cept as  an  illustration  of  the  delight  which  the  Jews  of  the 
first  century  of  our  era  took  in  expanding  and  commenting 
on  the  old  history.  The  natural  growth  of  embellishment 
is  clearly  seen  when  we  compare  the  book  of  Jubilees  with 
the  text  of  Genesis  and  Exodus,  on  which  it  is  based. 

Second  Esdras  belongs  probably  toward  the  close  of  the 
first  century  of  our  era,  and  is  of  interest  as  testifying  to  the 
existence  at  that  time  of  the  expectation  of  the  kingdom  of 
God.  In  its  present  form  it  appears  to  have  been,  if  not 
written  by  a  Jewish  Christian,  at  any  rate  retouched  by  a 
Christian  hand.^ 

It  will  suffice  to  mention  the  Testaments  of  the  Twelve 
Patriarchs  and  the  Ascension  of  Isaiah,  —  works  which  be- 
long in  the  beginning  of  the  second  century  of  our  era,  and 
are  of  small  importance  for  the  history  of  the  genesis  of  our 
Christian  ideas. 

7.  The  works  which  go  under  the  name  of  Maccabees 
furnish,  along  with  the  history,  a  number  of  details  of  the 
opinions  of  the  times.     First  Maccabees  covers   the   space 

^  The  date  is  doubtful.  See  a  good  di.scussion  of  this  point  in  Drum- 
mond's  "Jewish  Messiah."  The  writer  (xii.  10-32)  identifies  his  final  world- 
period  with  Daniel's  fourth  kingdom  (Dan.  vii.),  which,  according  to  Josephus 
(x.  11,  7),  was  the  Roman,  and  his  twelve  kings  are  most  naturally  explained 
as  Roman  emperors.  A  Christian  coloring  seems  probable  in  the  title  "  Son 
of  God  "  applied  to  the  Messiah  (vii.  28,  29 ;  xiii.  32,  37  ;  xiv.  9). 


68  THE   LITERATUEE. 

B.  c.  175-135;  Second  ]\raccabees  b.  c.  176-162  ;  Third  Mac- 
cabees B.  c.  221-204;  Fifth  Maccabees  extends  from  b.  c.  176 
to  the  beginning  of  our  era  ;  Fourth  Maccabees  is  a  philo- 
sophical tract  on  the  Autocracy  of  Reason,  founded  on  the 
story  of  the  martyrdom  of  p]leazar  and  of  the  seven  brothers 
and  their  mother  (2  j\Iac.  vi.  vii.). 

Two  other  writers  remain  to  be  mentioned.  The  works 
of  Josephus  contahi  a  great  mass  of  matter  respecting  the 
religious  history  and  opinions  of  the  Jews  during  the  period 
beginning  with  the  j\laccabean  struggle  and  ending  with  the 
destruction  of  Jerusalem  by  Titus,  A.  D.  70.  It  is  hardly 
necessary  to  say  that  his  statements  on  these  points  have 
to  be  received,  certainly  not  with  scepticism,  but  with  critical 
examination. 

The  influence  of  Philo  (first  half  of  the  first  century  of  our 
era)  on  Christian  thought  was  deep  and  lasting,  though  it  at 
first  affected  a  small  circle  of  thinkers. 

§  2.  The  Canons. 
1.  During  the  development  of  the  literature  above  de- 
scribed a  parallel  movement  of  great  importance  had  been 
going  on  among  the  Jews.  They  selected  certain  books,  which 
they  believed  to  have  been  imparted  by  divine  inspiration, 
collected  them  into  a  sacred  canon,  and  invested  them  with 
absolute  authority.  The  effect  on  Jewish  thought  was,  as  in 
all  such  cases,  both  limiting  and  inspiring :  it  established  a 
fixed  rule  of  life  and  offered  a  body  of  admirable  writings  for 
study ;  but  it  tended  also  to  exclude  all  other  literature  and 
to  enfeeble  thought  by  the  pressure  of  an  absolute  body  of 
truth  beyond  which  the  mind  could  not  permit  itself  to  go. 
Embryonic  canons  have  existed  among  other  peoples,  as  the 
Greeks,  Romans,  and  Chinese  ;  Buddhism,  Zoroastrianism, 
and  Islam  went  furtlier  and  established  definite  collections 
of  sacred  writings ;  but  no  people  laid  hold  of  the  idea  of 


THE   CANONS.  69 

canonization  with  so  much  precision  and  carried  it  out  with 
so  mucli  vigor  and  definiteness  as  the  Jews.  The  process 
was  a  gradual  one  :  those  books  were  first  chosen  which 
satisfied  the  first  and  most  pressing  needs  of  the  post-exiHan 
Jews  ;  and  gradually,  as  literary  and  religious  interest  widened, 
other  works  were  included  according  to  the  appeal  which 
they  made  to  the  national  religious  consciousness.  We  have 
only  meagre  details  of  the  principles  according  to  which  the 
selection  of  the  canonical  books  was  made.  We  may  gather 
that  the  tests  were  both  external  and  internal :  a  book  to  be 
chosen  must  come  supported  by  some  recognized  high  author- 
ity, prophetic  or  other  ;  and  at  the  same  time  it  was  neces- 
sary that  its  contents  should  commend  themselves  to  the 
religious  feeling  of  the  best  men.  A  book  might  be  valued 
for  its  legal  material,  for  its  ethical  exhortation,  for  its  edify- 
ing emotion,  for  its  historical  information,  or  for  its  consoling 
view  of  the  future.  Doubtless  over  many  books  there  were 
long  discussions  ;  such  discussions,  in  the  case  of  Ecclesiastes 
and  the  Song  of  Songs,  and  one  or  two  other  books,  the 
Talmud  speaks  of  as  having  been  carried  on  up  to  the  end 
of  the  first  century  of  our  era. 

2.  The  root  of  the  idea  of  a  canon  goes  back,  no  doubt, 
to  very  early  times.  Its  basis  is  the  conviction  that  Yahwe 
announced  his  will  directly  to  Israel  through  chosen  men, 
prophets,  and  priests.  The  Tora  was  originally  the  divine 
word  which  came  to  the  prophets  respecting  the  moral,  re- 
ligious, and  political  condition  of  the  nation  (Isa.  viii.  16). 
As  society  became  better  organized,  the  need  was  more 
strongly  felt  for  a  definite  system  of  regulations  of  life. 
No  distinction  was  made  between  the  ethical,  religious,  and 
political  codes  ;  the  nation  was  conceived  of  as  a  unity  under 
the  guidance  of  the  national  deity,  whose  will  was  the  norm 
of  conduct  in  all  jjhases  of  activity.  For  the  king  on  the 
throne,  the  priest  at  the  shrine,  and  the  common  man  in 


70  THE   LITERATURE. 

every-day  life  there  could  be  but  one  rule,  namely,  to  do 
those  things,  ethical  and  ritual,  which  the  God  of  Israel  had 
declared  to  be  well-pleasing  in  his  sight.  At  the  end  of  the 
seventh  century  came  a  great  outburst  of  nationalism,  one 
result  of  which  was  the  compilation  of  the  Deuteronomic 
code,  —  a  collection  of  laws  (developed  out  of  earlier  material) 
intended  to  be  a  complete  manual  of  life.  The  code  was 
naturally  ascribed  to  ^Moses  as  its  autl)or.  He  was  the 
greatest  name  in  the  tradition  of  the  olden  time,  —  he  had 
led  the  people  from  Egypt  to  Canaan ;  he  had  been  at  once 
captain,  judge,  and  priest.  The  line  of  legal  traditions  went 
back  to  him,  and  the  fact  that  there  had  been  constant 
accretions  was  forgotten  or  neglected ;  according  to  the 
historical  ideas  of  the  time,  it  was  he  who  should  have 
announced  the  organic  law  of  the  nation.  Such  a  law  in 
the  nature  of  tlie  case  would  tend  to  become  finally  regula- 
tive ;  the  Deuteronomic  code  was  the  inception  of  the  canon. 
Yet  that  the  canonical  idea  was  not  then  completely  estab- 
lished is  shown  by  the  freedom  with  which  the  prophet 
Ezekiel  (Ezek.  xl.-xlviii )  deals  with  the  material,  advancing 
beyond  Deuteronomy,  modifying  its  prescriptions,  and  sug- 
gesting or  announcing  new  regulations  as  if  he  were  quite  un- 
conscious that  there  existed  a  code  of  final  authority.  The 
beginning  had  been  made,  but  the  end  was  not  reached  till 
the  time  of  Ezra  and  Nehemiah.  Then  the  little  church- 
nation  in  Babylonia  and  Palestine,  isolated  and  lieljiless, 
feeling  more  definitely  that  its  national  life  was  bound  up 
with  a  divinely  given  code,  accepted  the  fuller  Levitical 
legislation  of  the  time  as  God's  final  word  to  the  people. 
The  feeling  of  need  and  the  law  which  responded  to  it  had 
grown  up  together;  and  when  Ezra  and  Nehemiah  announced 
to  the  congregation  tlie  new  and  complete  set  of  regulations, 
there  was  no  question  of  forcing  an  unacceptable  law  on  a 
reluctant   people,  —  the  proposed  code  seemed  natural  and 


THE   CANONS.  71 

necessary,  and  was  accepted  with  joyful  acclamation.  It 
also  was  of  course  ascribed  to  Moses ;  doubtless  to  the 
masses  of  that  time  the  idea  of  a  break  in  the  continuity 
of  tradition  never  occurred.  Issuing  from  the  mouth  of 
God,  liavmg  its  root  in  the  beginnings  of  the  national 
life,  the  Torn,  based  on  and  sustained  by  everything  that 
was  most  sacred  in  human  thought,  was  an  eternal  rule 
on  wdiich  no  profane  hand  could  be  laid  with  impunity. 
From  this  time  on,  the  possession  of  this  divinely  given  code 
was  the  source  of  perpetual  joy  and  exultation  to  the  Jews, 
who  believed  that  they  were  thereby  forever  separated  from, 
and  lifted  above,  all  the  other  nations  of  the  earth. 

3.  The  canonical  idea,  once  introduced,  was  capable  of 
extension.  During  the  remainder  of  the  Persian  period, 
and  especially  afterward  under  the  Greek  rule,  the  na- 
tional consciousness  of  separateness  and  sanctity  steadily 
grew,  and  all  tliat  bore  on  the  history  and  development 
of  the  people  became  constantly  more  interesting.  There 
were  extant  writings  which  narrated  the  fortunes  of  the 
nation  from  the  settlement  in  Canaan  down  to  the  exile, 
setting  forth  how  the  people  had  prospered  in  proportion  as 
they  had  been  obedient  to  Yahwe,  and  how  he  had  sent  his 
prophets  to  instruct  them  and  to  guide  them  ;  and  there 
had  also  been  preserved  the  discourses  of  certain  of  these 
prophets,  in  which  Israel  was  rebuked  for  its  sins  and  threat- 
ened with  punishment  if  it  did  not  repent,  but  also  prom- 
ised a  glorious  future  if  it  would  turn  to  its  God  with 
wholeness  of  heart.  In  process  of  time  canonical  sanctity 
came  to  attach  to  some  of  these  writings.^  We  have  no  in- 
formation as  to  the  grounds  which  controlled  the  selection, 
but  we  may  be  reasonably  sure  that  the  main  consideration 
was  their  true  national  character ;  those  books  were  chosen 

1  The  second  canon  contains  Joshua,  Judsjes,  Samuel,  Kings,  and  the 
prophets  (including  Jonah  and  excluding  Daniel). 


72  THE   LITERATURK 

for   canonization  which   depicted   the   national   life    in   ac- 
cordance with   the   ethical -religious   point   of  view   of   the 
fourth  and  third  centuries  B.  c. ;  the  prophets  who  survived 
were  those  whose  thought  was  justified  by  the  result.     The 
standard  of  election  was  high,  in  accordance  with  the  lofty 
view  held  of  the  ethical-religious  enlightenment,  obligation, 
and  mission  of  the  nation  ;  possibly  literary  considerations 
also  entered.     In  regard  to  such  men  as  Amos,  Hosea,  Isaiah, 
Micah,  Zephaniah,  Habakkuk,  Jeremiah,  Ezekiel,  the  exilian 
Isaiah  and  the  post-exilian  Haggai,  Zechariah  I.,  Zecliariah 
II.,  and  Joel,  there  could  be  no  ground  of  hesitation,  —  their 
ceneral  thought  was  in  accord  with  the  true  ethical-religious 
instinct  of  the  nation.    Nahum  and  Obadiah  must  have  com- 
mended themselves  purely  by  their  nationalism,  shice  they 
contain  no  real  ethical  or  religious  thought ;  the  little  book 
of  Jonah,  not  properly  prophecy  at  all,  though  it  embodies 
a  noble  religious  conception,  probably  owed  its  place  in  the 
new  collection  to  its  religious  excellence  and  its  supposed 
connection  with  the  old  prophet  of  that  name  in  the  time 
of  Jeroboam  11. 

This  body  of  writings  was  gradually  brought  into  shape 
during  the  two  centuries  that  followed  the  canonization  of 
the  Law.  The  conditions  were  not  entirely  favorable  to  the 
preservation  of  the  original  prophetic  words.  Manuscripts 
were  copied  and  recopied  by  scribes  who  not  only  sometimes 
made  errors  in  letters  and  words,  but  permitted  themselves 
to  introduce  new  material  into  the  text,  or  to  combine  in  one 
manuscript,  witliout  mark  of  division,  writings  composed  by 
different  men;  instances  of  these  sorts  of  procedure  are 
found  especially  in  Micah  and  Jeremiah,  and  the  groups  of 
prophecies  which  go  under  the  name  of  Isaiah  and  Zecha- 
riah. Scribes  and  collectors  were  often,  perhaps  generally, 
ignorant  of  the  dates  of  the  writings  with  which  they  had 
to  do ;  they  seem,  indeed,  to  have  attached  little  importance 


THE   CANONS.  73 

to  author  or  time,  being  more  concerned  with  the  thought 
and  its  bearing  on  the  edification  of  the  nation. 

We  have  no  external  testimony  as  to  the  time  when  the 
prophetic  writings  were  gathered  into  a  canon,  except  the 
obscure  statement  in  2  Mac.  ii.  13  (a  book  of  small  author- 
ity), where  it  is  said  that  Nehemiah  founded  a  library  and 
gathered  together  the  books  concerning  the  kings  (perhaps 
our  Judges,  Samuel,  and  Kings),  and  the  prophets  and  the 
things  of  David  (possibly  an  historical  book  or  some  collec- 
tion of  psalms),  and  the  epistles  of  the  kings  concerning  the 
holy  gifts  (the  letters  of  Persian  monarchs).  'This  statement 
is  valuable  only  as  proving  the  existence  of  a  tradition  re- 
specting the  collection  of  the  prophetical  books ;  one  might 
surmise  from  it  that  there  were  various  attempts  to  gather 
these  books  before  the  collection  assumed  the  form  of  our 
second  canon.  From  the  second  prologue  to  Ecclesiasticus  it 
may  be  inferred  that  this  canon  was  in  existence  before  the 
year  200  b.  c,  and  we  may  assign  it  the  approximate  date 
of  250. 

4.  Meantime,  writings  of  a  different  order  were  coming 
into  existence,  —  ethical-religious  discussions,  proverbs,  his- 
tories, stories,  temple  songs,  and  apocalypses.  As  these  were 
not  composed  by  prophetic  men,  and  were  not  immediately 
connected  with  the  organic  law  of  the  nation,  they  were 
relatively  slow  in  acquiring  authority.  A  certain  literary 
training  was  necessary,  and  a  certain  broadening  of  the  na- 
tional religious  consciousness,  in  order  that  speculative  and 
emotional  works  whi^h  bore  a  distinct  impress  of  the  person- 
ality of  the  writers  should  be  accepted  as  part  of  God's  reve- 
lation to  the  nation.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  the  national 
feeling  here  also  entered  largely  into  the  decision  of  the  ques- 
tion. The  book  of  Job  might  be  looked  on  as  describing  not 
only  the  trials  of  a  pious  soul,  but  also  the  sufferings  of  the 
nation ;    Chronicles,  Ezra,  Nehemiah,  and  Esther  portrayed 


74  THE   LITERATURE. 

various  aspects  of  the  national  fortunes,  and  Ruth  chronicled 
the  beginnings  of  the  royal  house  of  Judah  ;  Lamentations 
and  Psalms  expressed  the  national  feeling  and  uttered  the  na- 
tional prayer  in  various  seasons  of  joy  or  grief;  Proverbs  gave 
rules  of  life  which  might  be  regarded  as  a  supplement  to  the 
law ;  Daniel  offered  much-needed  consolation  in  the  shape  of 
a  glowing  picture  of  glorious  triumph.  In  respect  to  Ecclesi- 
astes  and  the  Song  of  Songs  there  might  be  doubt ;  neither  of 
them  is  national ;  the  first  is  gravely  and  reservedly  sceptical 
and  indifferent,  and  the  second  is  secular  and  sensuous.  In 
fact,  the  opinion  as  to  these  books  was  not  unanimous ;  up  to 
the  end  of  the  first  century  of  our  era  the  question  was  dis- 
cussed whether  they  were  edifying  and  entitled  to  a  place  in 
the  canon.  The  favorable  opinion  finally  arrived  at  probably 
resulted  from  the  allegorizing  of  the  Song  into  a  history  of 
Israel,  and  from  an  appendix  to  Ecclesiastes  which  gave  it 
an  air  of  orthodoxy.  Difficulties  arose  also  with  respect  to 
other  books.  ^ 

Such  was  the  course  of  thought  in  Palestine.  It  is  evi- 
dent tliat  the  choice  of  books  for  the  third  canon  was  con- 
trolled by  a  somewhat  stringent  ethical-religious  and  perhaps 
literary  feeling.  But  other  considerations,  sometimes  purely 
local,  probaljly  entered  into  the  decision  of  the  question. 
In  Egypt  the  conditions  were  different.  The  Greek  transla- 
tion made  in  Alexandria  in  the  third  and  second  centuries 
includes  in  the  third  canon  not  only  the  books  above  men- 
tioned, but  a  number  of  others :  additions  to  Ezra,  Daniel, 
and  Esther ;  the  Prayer  of  i\Ianasseli,  Parucli,  and  the 
Epistle  of  Jeremiah ;  Judith  and  T()])it ;  tlie  Wisdom  of 
Solomon,  and  the  Wisdom  of  Jesus  the  son  of  Sirach  ;  and 
the  first  and  second  books  of  Maccabees.  The  reasons  for 
the  acceptance  of  these  works  into  the  Alexandrian  canon 

1  Tlie  books  wliose  canonic.il  character  was  called  in  question  were  Eze- 
kiel,  Proverbs,  Esther,  Ecclesiastes,  and  the  Song  of  Songs.  , 


THE   CANONS.  75 

are  obvious :  some  of  them  are  merely  expansions  or  theo- 
cratic interpretations  of  recognized  canonical  books ;  some 
are  imitations  of  the  prophets ;  some  depict  the  life  of  the 
people,  national  or  individual,  as  guided  by  the  God  of 
Israel ;  some  give  maxims  for  the  direction  of  life.  That 
these  works  were  not  accepted  by  the  Palestinian  Jews  as 
canonical  was  probably  due  to  their  stricter  standard  ;  the 
legal-ecclesiastical  organization  in  Palestine  was  far  more 
definite  and  effective  than  that  in  Egypt,  and  excluded,  on 
literary  and  auctorial  grounds,  much  that  might  commend 
itself  to  the  freer  and  looser  judgment  of  the  Alexandrians. 
And  it  may  be  added  that  while  the  term  "  canonical "  (more 
precisely  "  deutero-canonical "')  may  properly  be  applied  to 
these  books  (as  we  may  infer  from  the  consideration  ac- 
corded them  by  the  Christian  world),  we  must  suppose  that 
it  was  understood  in  general  in  a  looser  way  in  Egypt  than 
in  Palestine.  The  Alexandrian  collection  was  probably 
closed  in  the  first  century  before  the  beginning  of  our  era.^ 

The  remaining  books,  though  they  enjoyed  considerable 
respect  and  authority,  were  never  canonized.  Some  of  them, 
as  the  Jubilees,  the  Apocalypse  of  Baruch,  Second  Esdras,  the 
Ascension  of  Isaiah,  and  the  Testimony  of  the  Twelve  Patri- 
archs, were  composed  too  late,  and  were  lacking  in  definite- 
ness  of  thought  and  in  literary  excellence ;  of  those  which 
fall  earlier,  tlie  Assumption  of  Moses  and  the  Psalms  of 
Solomon  are  destitute  of  impressive  or  inspiring  qualities, 
and  the  Sibylline  Oracles,  though  intensely  national  in  feel- 
ing, were  perhaps  too  un-Jewish  in  form  to  satisfy  the  de- 
mands of  the  time.     Why  the  book  of  Enoch  was  rejected 

'  Second  Maccabees,  which  seems  to  be  the  latest  book  in  the  collection, 
closes  its  narrative  with  the  fall  of  Nicanor,  b.  c.  161,  and  the  first  prefatory 
letter  bears  the  date  (i.  9)  188  of  the  Seleucidan  era,  that  is,  b.  c.  124.  As 
the  work  is  an  abridgment  of  another  history  (li  2-3),  we  may  allow  fifty  or 
seventy-five  years  for  the  interval  between  its  appearance  and  the  events  it 
describes. 


76  THE   LITEKATURE. 

is  not  clear.  It  is  quoted  in  one  Xew  Testament  book 
(JuJe),  abundantly  used  in  another  (the  Revelation),  and  is 
modelled  in  part  after  Daniel.  Perhaps  it  was  felt  that  the 
book  really  added  nothing  to  the  existing  apocalyptic  ma- 
terial; perhaps  its  loose  and  exuberant  demonology  and 
astronomy  made  it  unacceptable ;  and  the  interpolations 
show  that  it  circulated  for  some  time  uncontrolled  by  the 
learned  colleges  of  Palestine. 

All  these  works,  canonical  and  uncanonical,  are  signs  of 
the  times,  and  must  be  taken  into  account  in  the  description 
of  the  thought  of  the  period.  Perhaps  the  greater  authority 
in  this  respect  is  to  be  accorded  in  general  to  the  canonical 
books  on  the  ground  that  they  received  wider  and  completer 
recognition.  Yet  this  distinction  cannot  be  absolutely  main- 
tained, since  other  than  purely  religious  or  theological  reasons 
helped  to  determine  the  fact  of  canonization,  and  since  it  ap- 
pears that  some  of  the  uncanonical  books  were  very  generally 
and  highly  esteemed. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

ATTEE  this  brief  survey  of  the  literature  we  may  enter 
on  the  special  study  of  the  development  of  the  Jewish 
religious  thought,  the  conditions  that  determined  it,  the 
phases  it  assumed,  and  the  forms  it  presented  at  the 
moment  when  Christianity  made  its  appearance. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  decisive  step  in  the  construction  of 
the  theistic  doctrine  had  already  been  taken  when  the  com- 
plete Levitical  law  was  introduced  in  the  fifth  century  b.  c. 
Monotheism  was  practically  established,  and  the  more  spirit- 
iial  elaboration  of  the  theistic  conception  was  only  a  matter 
of  time.  Yet  the  oneness  of  the  divine  person  and  rule  was 
not  held  in  perfect  purity.  There  were  remnants  of  idolatry 
among  the  people  down  to  a  comparatively  late  period ;  in 
the  coming  day  of  regeneration,  says  Zechariah  (xiii.  2),  the 
names  of  the  idols  shall  be  cut  off  out  of  the  land.  This, 
however,  was  apparently  only  a  feeble  survival  of  the  old 
practice ;  it  soon  passed  away,  coerced  by  the  ruling  mono- 
theistic spirit,  and  after  the  middle  of  the  second  century 
B.  c,  we  hear  no  more  of  it.^  Perhaps  the  same  thing  is  true 
of  the  belief  in  the  existence  of  heathen  deities.     In  at  least 

1  See  the  curious  statement  in  2  Mac.  xii.  40,  that  after  the  defeat  of 
Gorgias  there  were  found  on  all  the  slain  Jews  things  consecrated  to  idols, 
and  the  author  adds  that  this  is  the  reason  why  they  were  slain.  But  this 
devotion  to  idols,  whatever  it  may  mean,  was  apparently  quite  isolated. 
And  it  is  said  further  that  Judas,  mindful  of  the  resurrection,  sent  a  sin- 
offering  to  Jerusalem  and  had  prayers  offered  for  the  dead.  There  is  no 
other  mention  of  such  defection  from  Israelitish  worship  except  under  the 
political  and  social  pressure  brought  to  bear  by  Antiochus  Epiphaues. 


78  THE   DUCTIUNE   UF   GOD. 

two  of  tlie  psalms  which  seem  to  be  late,  a  part  of  the  govern- 
ment of  the  world  is  ascribed  to  the  gods  of  the  nations 
(Ps.  Iviii.  2;  Ixxxii.),  and  this  is  of  course  a  curtailment 
of  the  power  of  the  one  God.  So  in  the  book  of  Daniel, 
the  functions  ascribed  to  the  guardian  angels  of  the  various 
nations  cannot  be  quite  harmonized  with  the  absolute  rule 
of  the  God  of  Israel.  The  same  thing  must  be  said  of  the 
power  with  which  Satan  was  credited.  Not  only  does  he 
lead  David  astray  (1  Chron.  xxi.  1)  and  induce  God  to  heap 
sufferings  on  Job,  but  he  is  represented  (Wisdom  of  Solomon 
ii.  24)  as  having  brought  death  into  the  world.  But  the 
Jews,  like  other  men,  were  capable  of  happy  logical  incon- 
sistency ;  in  spite  of  heathen  deities,  guardian  angels,  and 
powerful  demons,  they  believed  substantially  in  the  alone- 
ness  of  God.  He  was  held  to  permit  the  existence  and  suffer 
the  activity  of  subordinate  supernatural  beings,  yet  always 
to  stand  apart  and  control  them  for  his  own  purposes.  This 
is  also  the  theistic  conception  of  the  New  Testament,  where 
God  is  clearly  supreme,  while  yet  very  great  power  is  ascribed 
to  Satan  and  the  demons. 

This  idea  made  a  great  gulf  between  the  Jews  and  their 
neighbors,  and  by  means  of  this  sundering,  helped  to  de- 
velop nationalism  and  the  whole  national  life.  It  imparted 
to  the  consciousness  of  the  people  a  sense  of  superiority 
which  produced  both  religious  vigor  and  religious  pride. 
On  the  national  thought  monotheism  produced  its  natu- 
ral effect,  —  it  gave  unity  to  the  conception  of  the  govern- 
ment of  the  world,  though  it  was  held  in  a  narrow  way 
so  as  to  exclude  all  peoples  but  the  Jews  from  the  sym- 
pathy and  guidance  of  the  deity.  AVe  may  now  proceed 
to  state  the  elements  of  the  theistic  conception  a  little 
more  in   detail. 

1.  The  governmental  side  of  the  idea  of  God  was  firmly 
established  from  a  comparatively  early  period ;  there  is  little 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  79 

difference  between  Paul's  conception  of  the  divine  control  of 
things  and  Jeremiah's.  In  the  literature  from  Ezra  down 
God  is  conceived  of  as  practically  omnipresent,  omniscient, 
and  omnipotent.  This  doctrine  is  not  held  in  a  speculative 
or  metaphysical  way  ;  it  was  simply  believed  that  God  was 
capable  of  doing  whatever  was  to  be  done.  He  controls  all 
individuals  and  nations :  the  Assyrians  in  Judith,  the  Greeks 
in  j\Iaccabees,  all  the  races  of  mankind  in  Enoch  and  the 
Sibyl,  all  men,  good  and  bad,  in  the  books  of  Wisdom  and 
the  Psalms.  This  conception  is  held  almost  unconsciously 
throughout  the  whole  period  which  ends  with  the  close  of 
the  first  century  of  our  era.  There  is  no  attempt  at  demon- 
stration ;  there  is  no  sign  of  doubt ;  and  this  shows  that  the 
conception  had  become  part  of  the  religious  furniture  of  the 
time. 

There  was  of  course  involved  in  this  the  general  idea  of 
God's  providential  care  for  men.  The  conception  of  a  uni- 
versal, divine  providence  in  the  form  which  it  is  now  held 
is  not  found  in  the  earlier  books  of  the  Old  Testament.  In 
them  it  is  only  for  Israel  that  God  really  cares  ;  the  rest  of 
the  world  is  treated  as  a  mere  appendage  to  the  chosen 
people,  to  be  dealt  with  solely  in  its  interest.  But  traces 
of  a  broader  view  are  perceptible,  for  example,  in  Ps.  civ.  and 
cvii.,  and  in  Wisdom  of  Solomon  xiv.  3  :  "  Thy  providence 
governs  it  [a  ship  at  sea]  ;  .  .  .  thou  canst  save  from  all 
danger ; "  still  there  is  little  or  no  warmth  in  the  picture 
of  God's  care  for  men.  In  the  book  of  Ecclesiastes,  he  is 
sometimes  represented  as  half  indifferent  to  human  affairs ; 
he  controls,  but  he  feels  small  interest :  "  I  have  seen  the 
labor  that  God  has  imposed  on  the  sons  of  men  ;  .  .  .  nian 
cannot  find  out  God's  work  from  beginning  to  end ;  .  .  .  God 
proves  men  that  they  may  see  that  they  are  beasts  ;  .  .  .  God 
is  in  heaven  and  thou  upon  earth,  therefore  let  thy  words 
be  few  ;  .  .  .  when  thou  vowest  a  vow  to  God  defer  not  to  pay 


80  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

it,  for  he  has  no  pleasure  in  fools.  .  .  .  God  gives  a  man 
riches  and  honor,  but  not  the  power  to  enjoy  it."  But  this 
is  the  thought  of  a  half-Hellenized  Jew  of  Egypt,  who  had 
probably  only  a  small  circle  of  followers.  Of  theoretical 
atheism  there  is  no  trace ;  practical  doubt  of  the  advantage 
of  serving  God  is  referred  to  in  Mai.  iii.  14,  Ps.  x.  l4,  36,  — 
an  ethical-religious,  not  a  speculative-theological  view.  The 
apparently  most  general  pre-Christian  affirmation  of  divine 
providence  is  found  in  Wisdom  xvi.  7,  where  God  is  called  the 
Saviour  of  all  (as  in  1  Tim.  iv.  10) ;  yet  from  the  connection, 
where  the  author  is  speaking  of  God's  care  of  Israel,  it  is  doubt- 
ful w  hether  the  phrase  can  be  taken  in  a  universal  way. 

In  the  later  literature,  God's  close  connection  with  inani- 
mate and  brute  nature  is  brought  out  in  a  marked  man- 
ner ;  see  Pss.  xix ,  xxix.,  Ixv.,  xciii.,  xcvi.,  cii.,  civ.,  cxlviii.  He 
watches  over  and  controls  the  sustenance  and  life  of  all  plants 
and  animals,  and  directs  immediately  all  natuial  phenomena. 
There  is  a  certain  warmtli  of  coloring  in  the  representation 
of  God's  relation  to  nature :  "  Thou  makest  the  outgoings  of 
the  morning  and  evening  to  rejoice ;  .  .  .  thou  dost  visit  the 
land,  making  it  soft  with  showers  ;  .  .  .  the  hills  are  girt  with 
joy ;  .  .  .  the  valleys  shout  for  joy  and  sing  (Ps.  Ixv.) ;  .  .  . 
he  sends  springs  into  the  valleys  which  give  drink  to  every 
beast  of  the  field  ;  .  .  .  among  the  branches  sing  the  birds  of 
the  heaven ;  ...  lie  causes  grass  to  grow  for  the  cattle,  and 
wine  that  it  may  make  glad  the  heart  of  man  ;  .  .  .  the  young 
lions  roar  after  their  prey  and  seek  their  food  from  God ;  .  .  . 
all  wait  on  thee  that  their  food  may  be  given  them  in  due 
season"  (Ps.  civ.).  It  is  in  the  same  tone  that  Jesus  speaks 
of  birds  and  flowers  (Matt,  vi.),  in  contrast  with  the  way  in 
which  Paul  rejects  the  idea  that  God  takes  care  for  cattle 
(1  Cor.  ix.  9).  This  ascription  of  tenderness  to  the  divine 
feeling  for  nature  was  the  result  of  belief  in  the  universal 
divine  providence,  unchecked   by  narrow   national    feeling. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  SI 

The  Jews  (clinging  to  the  old  tribal  feeling)  found  it  hard 
to  conceive  of  the  God  of  Israel  as  thinking  kindly  of  Israel's 
enemies ;  but  there  was  no  such  feeling  of  hostility  toward 
beasts  and  birds,  mountains  and  seas,  trees  and  flowers. 
Doubtless  we  have  here  an  advance  along  the  two  lines,  — 
the  unitary  conception  of  the  universe  and  the  broadening  of 
ethical  feeling  in  the  direction  of  kindness  and  love  ;  the 
supreme  God  must  embrace  the  world  in  that  sentiment  of 
love  which  more  and  more  approved  itself  as  an  ethical  ideal, 
—  the  only  disturbing  element  in  the  Jewish  conception 
being  that  all  other  men  existed  only  for  the  sake  of  Israel. 

This  narrowing  conception  of  God's  relation  to  Israel,  in- 
herited from  the  prophets  and  ingrained  in  the  national  con- 
stitution, clung  pertinaciously  to  the  Jews  throughout  this 
period  and  in  all  their  succeeding  history ;  it  is  an  idea  of 
which  they  have  rarely  rid  themselves.  Even  Paul  could 
not  shake  it  off.  In  spite  of  his  grand  theorem  (in  which  he 
doubtless  heartily  believed)  that  the  true  Israel  was  charac- 
terized not  by  bodily  descent  from  Abraham,  but  by  ethical- 
religious  faith  in  God,  he  returns  with  natural  patriotic 
illogicalness  to  the  position  (Kom.  x.  xi.)  that  the  prom- 
ises are  to  the  national  Israel;  his  higher  religious  instinct 
leads  him  to  one  interpretation  of  the  Old  Testament,  his 
patriotic  feeling  to  another.  It  is  only  in  the  Gospels  that 
the  highest  point  of  view  is  attained. 

The  whole  conception  of  God  in  the  later  Jewish  litera- 
ture assumes  his  justice.  This  idea  was  held  in  a  practi- 
cal, general,  and  imperfect  form.  The  epithets  "  just  "  and 
"  righteous  "  are  freely  applied  to  the  divine  being,  and  the 
doctrine  is  formulated  in  Gen.  xviii.  25,  "Shall  not  the  Judge 
of  all  the  earth  do  right  ? "  This  quality  was  assumed  to  be 
part  of  the  divine  perfectness,  but  its  content  is  not  care- 
fully examined  or  definitely  fixed  ;  or,  to  speak  more  accurate- 
ly, its  content  was  determined  by  the  ethical  ideas  of  the  age. 

6 


82  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

The  wicked  and  the  enemies  of  Israel  (terms  which  are  often 
synonymous)  are  hardly  thought  of  as  having  rights.  A  care- 
ful estimate  of  each  human  being,  with  precise  apportionment 
of  reward  and  punishment  according  to  his  merits  and  de- 
merits, entered  only  in  small  degree  into  the  mode  of  thought 
(jf  the  time.  Yet,  though  the  ethical  details  were  not  defi- 
nitely fixed,  the  idea  existed.  The  important  point  is  that 
tlie  conception  of  the  deity  was  truly  ethical ;  the  devout 
man  could  not  think  that  God  would  ever  violate  the  laws 
of  justice  ;  the  fuller  elaboration  of  the  content  of  justice 
had  to  be  left  to  the  better  developed  ethical  conceptions  of 
succeeding  times.  Substantially  the  same  representation  is 
found  in  the  Nev/  Testament,  —  the  divine  justice  is  taken 
for  granted  without  being  formally  defined.  The  Old  Testa- 
ment division  of  men  into  the  two  classes  of  "righteous" 
and  "  wicked "  is  retained.  The  doctrine  is  summed  up  by 
Paul  in  Eom.  ii.  G-11  :  God,  with  wliom  is  no  respect  of 
persons,  renders  to  every  man  according  to  his  works.  The 
apostle  seems  in  this  discussion  to  take  the  broadest  ethical 
point  of  view,  —  Jews  and  Gentiles  alike,  he  says,  shall  be 
judged,  not  by  their  historical  relation  to  the  Jewish  law, 
but  by  their  conformity  to  right-doing ;  elsewhere,  however 
(Rom.  V.  viii.),  he  makes  right-doing  dependent  on  faith  in 
Jesus  Christ,  and  practically  divides  the  world  into  Chris- 
tians and  non-Christians,  the  first  being  necessarily  favored 
and  the  second  necessarily  condemned  by  the  divine  justice. 
In  this  conception,  great  prominence  is  given  to  the  ethical 
element, —  the  life  of  the  believer,  says  Paul,  must  and  will 
be  holy ;  but  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  confusion  of  the 
ethical  and  theological  factors  of  life,  and  the  attitude  of 
the  just  God  toward  men  is  made  to  depend  practically 
on  their  acceptance  or  non-acceptance  of  the  historical 
fact  of  the  IMessiahship  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  In  the 
New   Testament  Apocalypse  the   question   is  treated  more 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  8j 

brusquely:  all  men  who  do  not  belong  to  the  Church  of 
Christ  are  regarded  as  enemies  of  God  to  be  mercilessly 
trampled  out  of  existence.  The  Fourth  Gospel  conceives 
of  human  life  more  philosophically  and  ideally  as  a  conflict 
between  light  and  darkness ;  but  the  source  of  light  is  the 
historical  person  of  the  Christ,  and  he  makes  the  line  of  de- 
marcation between  the  two  classes  of  men  :  "  This  is  the 
judgment,  that  the  light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men 
loved  the  darkness  rather  than  the  light,  for  their  works 
were  evil"  (John  iii.  19).  The  discourses  of  Jesus  in  the 
Synoptics  give  the  purely  ethical  conception  of  the  divine 
justice;  that  is,  if  we  assume  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  to 
represent  his  mature  idea.  There  are  passages  in  which 
God's  judgment  of  men  seems  to  be  represented  as  deter- 
mined by  theological  dogma  (Matt.  xii.  31),  or  a  peculiar 
view  of  the  historical  kingdom  of  God  (Matt.  xvi.  27 ; 
xix.  28  ;  Mark  x.  23-31),  or  where  the  old  division  of  the 
world  into  Jews  and  Gentiles  is  maintained  (Matt.  xv.  24). 
Without  undertaking  to  decide  on  the  genuineness  or  chro- 
nological order  of  all  these  passages,  it  is  sufficient  to 
observe  that  the  pure  ethical  conception  is  expressed  in 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount:  the  divine  justice  in  estimat- 
ing men  takes  into  account  only  their  conformity  to  the 
law  of  right. 

2.  The  conception  of  God  as  a  being  of  love  was  of  course 
later  than  that  which  emphasized  his  governmental  attri- 
butes ;  it  was  possible  only  at  a  stage  of  social  development 
when  it  was  felt  that  love  to  man  is  one  of  the  highest 
qualities  of  the  human  soul.  The  old  Israelitish  idea  of 
the  divine  love  was,  so  far  as  we  can  gather  from  the  litera- 
ture, a  purely  national  one.  Yah  we  was  the  father  (Hos. 
xi.  1)  or  the  husband  (Jer.  ii.  1 ;  iii.  4 ;  Isa.  Ixii.  5)  of  Israel. 
In  the  later  psalms  more  individual  relation  is  expressed,  — 
Yahwe  is  said  to  pity  them  that  fear  him  as  a  father  pities 


84  THE  DOCTEIXE   OF  GOD. 

his  children  (Ps.  ciii.  13).     Gradually  the  paternal  relation, 
as  expressing  most  completely  the  combination  of  guidance 
and  tenderness,  came  to  be  employed  as  the  representative 
of  God's  relation  to  man  :  "  He  is  our  father  forever  '*  (Tob. 
xiii.  4) ;  the  righteous  man  is  "  numbered  among  the  sons  of 
God "   (Wisd.  V.  5) ;  "  that  thy  sons,  0  Lord,   whom  thou 
lovest  might  learn  that  ...  it  is  thy  word  which  preserves 
them  that  put  their  trust  in  thee  "   (Wisd.  xvi.  26)  ;   "  0 
Lord,  father  and  ruler  of  my  life"  (Ecclus.  xxiii.  1).     The 
conception  of  God's  fatherly  relation  to  individuals  existed 
therefore  a  couple  of  hundred  years  before  the  beginning  of 
our  era,  and  we  may  suppose  that  it  gathered  force  and  ful- 
ness as  the  increasing  purity  and  elevation  of  ethical  ideas 
was  transferred  to  the  divine  character.     Still,  it  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  a  favorite  conception ;  the  Jewish  na- 
tional feeling  was  strong  enough  to  depress  it.     It  was  proba- 
bly held  by  a  select  circle  of  thinkers,  but  it  was  kept  out 
of  general  view  by  the  circumstances  of  the  time,  the  politi- 
cal excitements,  and  the  religious-ethical  tendencies  thence 
resulting.     In  the  Sermon  on  the  IMount,  the  conception  of 
God  as  universal  father  is  stated  with  perfect  distinctness 
and  fulness.     God's  fatherly  care  is  represented  as  extending 
equally  over  the  just  and  the  unjust ;  he  feels  for  men  in  all 
conditions  of  life  and  phases  of  experience  the  sympathy  of 
a  tender  father.     Men  may  go  to  him  with  the  assurance  that 
he  comprehends  and  loves  them ;  and  he,  so  far  from  stand- 
ing apart  and  separate  from  human  life,  is  the  model  of  hu- 
man action ;  his  perfectness  is  the  goal  toward  which  men 
must  strive ;  and  the  completion  of  human  cliaracter  and  life 
is  the  attainment  of  perfect  harmony  between  man  and  God. 
This  highest  conception  of  the  relation  of  the  personal  God 
to  men  Jesus  distinctly  formulated  as   a  practical  element 
in  human  life.     How  far  it  entered  into  the  current  Jewish 
thought  of  the  time  when  he  began  his  public  career  we 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  85 

cannot  say.  The  religious  literature  of  that  period  is  jejune 
and  uninspiring,  mostly  occupied  with  uuspiritual  national 
questions ;  but  on  the  other  hand,  the  ethical  thought,  as  is 
remarked  above,  had  attained  considerable  purity. 

We  must  also  ask  how  far  the  Jewish  thought  at  this 
time  had  been  influenced  by  Greek  conceptions.     That  Paul, 
some   years   later  (Acts  xvii.  28:  "We  are  his  offspring"), 
should  quote  the   Cilician    Stoic  poet  Aratus,  seems  natu- 
ral from  the  apostle's  surroundings;  it   may  appear  more 
doubtful  whether  the  Galilean  community  in  which  Jesus 
grew  up  could  be  acquainted  with  the  thought  of  a  Greek 
who  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life  at  the  court  of  Mace- 
don  in   the   third  century  B.  c.      It  is   not  probable   that 
Aratus  was  known  in  Galilee;   but   doubtless   he  did   not 
stand  alone  in  the  affirmation  of   the  fatherhood  of    God. 
The    Stoic   Cleanthes   had   expressed   the    same   conception 
about   the   same   time ;  it   is   hardly  doubtful  that  it  was 
adopted  by  many  followers  of  the  Stoic  philosophy,  adhe- 
rents of   which   we   may  suppose  were   found   among   the 
Greeks  and  Komans  who  lived  in  Palestine  during  the  two 
centuries  preceding  the  beginning  of  our  era.     Such  an  idea, 
once  announced,   would   naturally  harmonize  with   Jewish 
thought  and  find  acceptance  in  the  more  deeply  spiritual 
circles  of  Palestinian  Jews.     Galilee  was  not  cut  off  from 
the  intellectual  life  of  the  land  ;  in  its  numerous  cities  there 
were  to  be  found  educated  men  of  all  the  nationalities  then 
represented  in  Palestine  ;  and  the  intercourse  with  Jerusa- 
lem was  easy  and  large  enough  to  allow  the  Galileans  to  ap- 
propriate  the   best   thought   of    the   capital.     A    profound 
thinker,  master   of  the  religious  ideas   of  his   own   people, 
keenly  sensitive  to  all  religious  impressions,   would  inevi- 
tably recognize  what  was  lofty  in  the  current  ideas  of  his 
surroundings.     There  are  hints  in  the  Gospels  that  Jesus 
came  into   contact   not   only  with   the   Jewish    schoolmen, 


86  THE   DOCTRIXE   OF   GOD. 

but  also  with  educated  Greeks  and  Eomans  (Matt.  viii.  5  ff . ; 
John  xii.  20).  The  mfluence  of  Hellenists,  of  proselytes, 
and  of  the  Alexandrian  Jewish  thought,  must  also  be  con- 
sidered ;  every  year  there  came  to  Palestine  from  all  parts 
of  the  lloman  Empire  men  who  brought  with  them  a  breath 
from  the  outer  world,  and  presumably  left  their  traces  in  the 
religious  ideas  which  they  expressed.  We  have  no  direct 
information  as  to  how  far  this  was  the  case.  But  Galilee 
must  have  been  sharply  isolated  if  it  remained  unaffected 
by  the  lines  of  religious  thought  then  existing  in  the  world. 
Taking  into  account  all  the  circumstances,  it  seems  probable 
that  the  idea  of  the  fatherhood  of  God  was,  in  the  beginning 
of  the  first  century  of  our  era,  not  unfamiliar  to  advanced 
religious  circles.  It  had  been  slowly  developing  by  in- 
dependent ways  among  Jews  and  Gentiles ;  the  former 
reached  it  through  the  conception  of  the  nation  as  the  son 
of  God,  the  latter  through  the  unitary  view  of  the  world, 
and  the  conception  of  God  as  the  ethical  ideal.  Ihit  how- 
ever widely  it  may  have  been  recognized  in  religiously  cul- 
tivated circles,  it  had  not  become  the  possession  of  the 
world.  It  was  the  profound  spiritual  instinct  of  Jesus 
which  led  him  to  make  it  the  central  point  of  his  theistic 
teaching.  He  discerned  its  dominant  relation  to  other  sides 
of  the  conception  of  God  ;  he  infused  into  it  the  warmth 
and  coloring  of  human  feeling  and  the  practicalness  of 
every-day  life,  and  therefore  he  is  to  be  regarded  in  a 
true  sense  as  its  author. 

3.  While  the  conception  of  God  as  governor  and  father 
was  thus  taking  shape,  there  was  a  parallel  development 
of  the  idea  of  his  personal  spiritual  relation  to  the  individual 
man.  This  is  expressed  abundantly  in  the  later  lyrical  lit- 
erature, the  Psalms,  and  the  Wisdom  books:  God  bestows 
on  his  servant  a  clean  heart  (Ps.  li.  10);  delivers  him  from 
sin  (Ps.  xxxix.  8,  11  ;  li.  1,  2)  ;  sets  him  apart  for  himself 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  87 

(Ps.  iv.  2) ;  watches  over  him  (Ps.  xxxiv.  20  ;  xl.  11)  ;  teaches 
him  his  ways  (Ps.  xxv.  4) ;  chastens  him  (Ps.  vi.  1  ;  xxxviii. 
1) ;  is  his  salvation  (Ps.  xxvii.  1  ;  xxxv.  3) ;  manifests  to 
him  loving-kindness  and  mercy  (Ps.  Ixix.  16  ;  ciii.  12-14  ; 
cviii.  4  ;  cxi.  4 ;  cxii.  4 ;  cxvi.  5  ;  cxxxix.  17  ;  cxlv.  8,  9  ; 
Wisd.  i.  2  ;  xv.  1  ;  Jud.  ix.  11).  The  righteous  man  on  his 
part  feels  joy  in  the  presence  of  God  (Ps.  xvi.  11).  The  re- 
lation of  the  divine  being  to  the  wicked  is  equally  personal 
(Ps.  1.  16-21  ;  Ixxiii.  18-20).  In  the  same  direction  is  the 
saying  attributed  to  the  first  great  Piabbinical  teacher,  Antig- 
onus  of  Socho  :  "  Be  not  like  servants  who  wait  on  the  mas- 
ter in  the  hope  of  receiving  reward."  This  was  the  natural 
growth  of  the  feeling  of  human  individuality.  In  the  earlier 
Old  Testament  literature  the  individual  exists  wholly  or 
mainly  as  a  member  of  the  nation,  and  the  divine  procedures 
are  almost  exclusively  national  A  distincter  individual  tone 
appears  in  the  book  of  Nehemiah,  and  with  continually  in- 
creasing prominence,  until  in  the  New  Testament  we  find 
each  individual  man  expected  to  recognize  his  personal  rela- 
tions with  God. 

There  was  a  corresponding  advance  in  the  conception  of 
God  as  pure  spirit,  the  abandonment  of  the  old  anthropo- 
morphic representations  of  his  nature  and  activity.  In  a 
great  part  of  the  Old  Testament  he  is  bound  by  conditions 
of  time  and  space ;  he  is  attached  in  an  especial  manner  to 
the  Jerusalem  temple  or  some  other  shrine,  and  his  favor  is 
gained  by  definite  modes  of  sacrifice.  The  Babylonian  exile 
no  doubt  greatly  helped  to  throw  off  this  local  conception  by 
forcing  the  Jews  to  adopt  a  worship  which  was  independent 
of  the  temple.  The  general  religious  growth  led  to  the 
establishment  of  synagogues  about  the  beginning  of  the 
second  century  b.  c.  ;  here  was  the  minimum  of  form ;  the 
sacerdotal  element  was  excluded ;  the  essence  of  the  worship 
was  the  individual  appropriation  of  the  divine  word.     The 


88  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

temple  furnished  the  framework  of  the  traditional,  collective, 
national  divine  service  ;  but  for  his  own  edification,  day  by- 
day,  the  pious  man  looked  to  the  synagogal  worship,  where 
the  visible  machinery  was  of  the  slightest,  and  he  was 
brought  face  to  face  with  God.  Eeverence  for  the  temple 
continued;  but  the  sentiment  of  ethical-religious  indepen- 
dence had  established  itself  at  the  beginning  of  our  era.  The 
Law  had  become  a  rival  of  the  temple.  The  great  Eabbini- 
cal  teachers  exerted  an  influence  second  to  none  in  the  land ; 
the  conception  of  the  national  life  was  no  longer  chiefly  that 
of  devotion  to  the  temple  ritual,  but  rather  that  of  conformity 
to  divine  law. 

No  doubt  the  progress  in  this  line  of  thought  was  gradual, 
—  the  purer  view  was  for  a  long  time  tainted  with  the  old 
local  conception ;  in  fact,  the  mass  of  men  have  never  got  rid 
of  the  lower  earthly  way  of  regarding  God.  Nationalism 
clung  to  the  Jews  almost  like  the  essence  of  their  religious 
life.  The  earliest  Christians  —  Jews  who  accepted  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  as  their  Messiah  —  shared  this  nationalism  (Acts 
i.-v.),  and  appear  not  to  have  separated  the  divine  being 
perfectly  from  the  old  traditional  limitations  of  time  and 
space.  The  entrance  of  the  Gentiles  into  the  Church  neces- 
sarily brought  about  a  change  in  this  regard ;  Palestine  and 
the  Jerusalem  temple  lost  their  peculiar  sanctity ;  Christian 
worship  was  performed  without  respect  to  outward  condi- 
tions, and  the  feeling  came  into  existence  that  the  supreme 
God  entered  immediately  into  communion  with  the  lieart 
of  man.  This  is  the  spirit  of  the  Sermon  on  the  ]\Iount  and 
of  the  New  Testament  epistles,  and  is  formulated  in  John  iv. 
24 :  "  God  is  a  spirit,  and  they  that  worsliip  him  must  wor- 
.  ship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth."  This  idea  may  be  found 
in  substance  in  Stoic  writings,  but  in  connection  with  a 
theistic  conception  not  definite  and  personal  enough  to  com- 
mend itself  to  the  mass  of  men.     Stoicism  reached  this  view 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  GOD.  89 

by  philosophical  reflection,  Christianity  by  the  influence  of 
social-religious  conditions  on  the  Jewish  national  thought. 
The  national  Judaism  found  it  next  to  impossible  to  discard 
national  localism;  Christianity,  starting  from  the  national 
Judaism,  found  itself  forced  by  the  influx  of  other  nationali- 
ties to  abandon  the  merely  national  point  of  view  and  to 
regard  divine  worship  and  the  divine  presence  as  divorced 
from  human  limitations.  This  divorcement  was  best  ex- 
pressed, in  the  language  of  the  time,  by  the  declaration  that 
God  was  a  spirit,  —  a  designation  which  ascribed  to  him  the 
sum-total  of  the  highest  side  of  existence.  The  idea,  once 
announced,  became  a  possession  for  mankind  destined  to  be 
fruitful  of  best  results.  It  has  not  always  retained  its 
purity,  but  it  has  never  completely  faded  from  men's 
minds ;  and  it  is  to  early  Christianity  that  we  owe  its  defi- 
nite formulation  and  its  establishment  as  an  element  of 
human  life. 

4.  We  come  now  to  follow  in  the  pre-Christian  Jewish 
thought  the  tendencies  toward  the  establishment  of  hypo- 
static differences  in  the  divine  nature.  In  all  religions 
the  complexity  of  the  phenomena  of  the  world  and  of  life 
has  led  to  the  differentiation  of  the  supernatural  power  into 
a  variety  of  persons  or  agencies,  —  the  creation  of  a  more  or 
less  distinct  and  developed  Pantheon.  Such  was  the  natural 
conception  reached  in  polytheistic  societies.^  But  where 
polytheism  had  been  discarded  and  a  substantially  unitary 
view  of  the  supernatural  power  adopted,  this  tendency  to- 
ward differentiation  of  function  could  show  itself   only  in 

1  In  the  Semitic  religions  the  feebleness  of  differentiation  makes  many 
of  the  deities  appear  as  undefined  hypostases  of  the  Supreme  Power.  It  is 
doubtful,  however,  whether  we  are  to  attach  any  such  meaning  to  the  Phoe- 
nician titles  "name  of  Baal"  (given  to  Ashtoreth  in  the  inscription  of  Esh- 
munazar)  and  "  face  of  Baal  "  (an  epithet  of  Tanit  frequent  in  the  Carthage 
inscriptions).  They  seem  to  signify  some  sort  of  identification  or  connection 
of  these  goddesses  with  Baal,  but  their  precise  force  is  not  clear. 


90  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

a  more  or  less  complete  personification  of  the  parts  and  func- 
tions of  the  divine  being. 

Add  to  this  the  natural  disposition  to  introduce  a  mediat- 
ing power  between  the  deity  and  the  world.  In  polytheis- 
tic systems  certain  subordinate  deities  subserved  this  end,  and 
the  Jews  gained  the  same  result  in  part  by  the  ministration 
of  angels.  But  as  the  supreme  God  became  grander  and 
farther  removed  from  visible  things,  there  remained  the  feel- 
ing that  an  intermediate  power  was  necessary  to  account  for 
his  relations  with  the  universe,  to  explain  its  creation  and 
maintenance.  Greek  philosophical  systems  felt  the  same  ne- 
cessity, and  whether  theistic  or  pantheistic,  constantly  strove 
to  bring  the  processes  of  cosmal  production  nearer  to  man. 

The  later  Judaism  absolutely  excluded  polytheism  from 
its  own  conception  of  God,  but  nevertheless  recognized  this 
necessity  of  differentiating  his  functions,  and  bringing  him 
into  closer  contact  with  man's  life. 

We  have  first  to  notice  in  the  Old  Testament  certain  ex- 
pressions which  may  be  considered  to  indicate  an  hypostatiz- 
ing  tendency,  but  never  develop  into  anything  definite.  The 
face  or  presence  of  God  is  a  natural  representation  of  his 
power  and  being,  and  in  the  Old  Testament  is  embodied  in 
the  form  of  an  angel  (Ex.  xxxiii.  14 ;  Isa.  Ixiii.  9) ;  but  this 
angel,  though  invested  with  divine  authority,  is  regarded  as 
a  subordinate  being  distinct  from  God.  The  conception  did 
not  become  very  prominent  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  did 
not  find  a  place  in  Christian  thought.^     The  same  thing  may 


1  It  attained  greater  prominence  in  the  Targums  and  the  Talmnd  under 
the  name  of  the  Shekina,  the  gh)rions  divine  presence.  In  the  earlier  Tar- 
gumic  literature  it  does  not  denote  an  activity  (see,  for  example,  Targ.  of 
Jonathan,  Ilab.  iii.  4),  and  may  be  considered  to  be  througliout  impersonal. 
In  the  Talmud  it  stands  sometimes  more  definitely  for  God,  hut  this  is  the 
free,  poetical  representation  of  the  schools,  and  can  hardly  he  regarded  as  a 
theological  dogma.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  movement  toward  an  hypostasis 
did  not  assume  definite  shape  in  pure  Jewish  thought. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  91 

be  said  of  the  expression  "  the  name,"  which  is  so  generally 
employed  in  the  Old  Testament  as  equivalent  to  the  sum- 
total  of  the  divine  attributes  or  to  the  divine  essence  and 
glory.  The  later  Jewish  thought  made  the  "  Name  "  a  syn- 
onym of  God,  a  hint  of  which  view  is  found  in  Lev.  xxiv. 
II.  The  angel  who  is  charged  with  the  task  of  guiding 
Israel  from  Sinai  to  Canaan  (Ex.  xxiii.  21)  is  the  bearer 
of  the  divine  name  and  authority ;  but  he  appears  nowhere 
else  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  was  not  adopted  in  succeed- 
ing theological  systems.  As  little  can  we  ascribe  a  hypo- 
static character  to  the  angel  of  Yah  we,  who  in  so  many 
places  seems  to  speak  and  act  as  if  he  were  God  (Gen.  xvi. 
7,  13 ;  xxxii.  24,  30  ;  Judg.  xiii.  13,  18 ;  Zech.  iii.  1,  2) ;  the 
name  "  angel "  distinguishes  this  being  from  God,  and  his  ap- 
parent separateness  from  other  angels  was  not  maintained 
in  Jewish  thought.  The  Old  Testament  angel  is  a  de- 
velopment out  of  the  Elohim-beings  of  the  polytheistic 
period ;  inferior  divinities,  put  into  a  distinctly  subordinate 
position  under  the  influence  of  monotheism,  became  mes- 
sengers of  God.  It  is  not  surprising  that  in  some  instances 
the  messenger  retained  a  part  of  the  old  polytheistic  coloring 
and  acted  as  if  he  were  an  independent  deity.^ 

These  three  representations  may  be  regarded  as  cases  of 
arrested  growth  ;  they  were  efforts  at  differentiation  which 
did  not  commend  themselves  to  the  general  feeling,  mainly 
because  they  were  rendered  unnecessary  by  other  more  fortu- 
nate attempts.     We  may  examine  a  little  more   fully  the 

1  It  is  only  necessary  to  mention  the  Metatron  of  the  Rabbinical  literature, 
apparently  an  exaggeration  of  the  biblical  "  angel  of  Yaliwe."  He  stands 
nearest  to  God's  presence  and  will,  is  his  supreme  agent  and  interpreter, 
sometimes  almost  his  other  self,  yet  never  ceases  to  be  a  creature,  absolutely 
dependent,  like  other  creatures,  on  the  Creator.  He  may  be  regarded  as  a 
scholastic  effort  to  establish  an  intermediary  between  God  and  the  world  ;  but 
the  conception  did  not  definitely  affect  Jewish  theology,  and  came  too  late  to 
influence  the  doctrine  of  Christianity.  See  Weber,  "  System  der  palastiuis- 
chen  Theologie,"  p.  172. 


92  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

expressions,  "  spirit,"  "  wisdom,"  and  "  word,"  which  made  a 
much  deeper  impression  on  Jewish  and  Christian  thought. 

In  the  Old  Testament  the  term  "  spirit "  is  employed, 
often  in  a  vague  and  general  way,  to  set  forth  the  seat  of 
the  inward  divine  energy.  It  is  a  perfectly  simple  anthro- 
pomorphic conception  :  as  in  man  the  spirit  was  the  place 
and  source  of  life,  thought,  courage,  energy,  so  these  same 
qualities  in  the  essence  of  God  were  ascribed  to  the  divine 
spirit.  It  was  this  that  entered  especially  into  relation  with 
the  soul  of  man  ;  bodily  affairs,  such  as  the  guidance  of  a 
nation  or  an  individual,  the  infliction  of  a  plague,  or  the 
overthrow  of  an  army,  were  committed  to  angels,  while  the 
infusion  of  courage  into  the  breast  of  a  hero,  or  of  the  word 
of  truth  into  the  mind  of  a  prophet,  was  the  work  of  the 
divine  spirit.-^  It  was  natural  that  the  spirit  should  tend  to 
stand  forth  as  an  independent  power ;  but  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment it  never  attains  the  form  of  a  distinct  personality,  — 
it  is  always  explicable  as  the  simple  representation  of  the 
divine  influence.  In  the  pre-Christian  Jewish  literature 
outside  of  the  Old  Testament,  there  is  an  advance  in  the 
direction  of  personality.  In  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon  (i.  7), 
it  is  said  that  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  fills  the  world,  and 
is  in  all  things  (xii.  1),  and  it  is  substantially  identified  with 
wisdom.  Philo  thinks  of  the  divine  spirit  as  the  image  of 
God  (i.  207),^  and  as  the  indivisible  source  of  understand- 
ing and  knowledge  (i.  255,  256).  The  precise  force  of  these 
expressions  will  appear  more  clearly  when  we  come  to  speak 
of  riiilo's  doctrine  of  the  Logos  ;  but  it  seems  evident  that 


1  In  the  earlier  literature  these  effects  are  jjroiluccd  liy  a  spirit  (Hebrew, 
ruarh)  sent  from  Yahwc  (Judg.  xiv.  6;  1  Sam.  xvi.  13,  14;  xix.  20),  and  it 
is  sometimes  hard  to  decide  whether  tlie  term  means  such  a  spiritual  agent 
or  the  inward  being  of  God.  Tiie  latter  sense  it  seems  to  have  in  some 
exilian  and  post-exilian  passages,  as  Isa.  xxxii.  IG  ;  xlviii.  10;  Job  xxvi.  13  ; 
Ps.  li.  1?  <'14)  ;  civ.  .30;  Dan.  iv.  8. 

'^  The  references  to  I'liilo  follow  Mangcy's  edition. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  93 

he  is  inclined  to  treat  it  as  something  more  than  a  mere 
name  for  divine  j)ower.^ 

This  is  about  the  stage  at  which  we  find  the  expres- 
sion in  the  earliest  ISIew  Testament  writings.  For  Paul 
the  spirit  is  more  than  mere  divine  energy,  yet  not  quite 
a  definite,  separate  personality.  In  the  eighth  chapter 
of  Eomans,  for  example,  there  is  a  certain  vacillation  in 
his  use  of  the  term ;  it  is  sometimes  hard  to  say  whether 
he  means  by  it  a  definite  person  or  a  personification  or 
a  mere  influence.  Thus  in  verses  4-8  the  spirit,  repre- 
sented as  the  opponent  of  the  flesh,  seems  to  be  man's 
higher  as  opposed  to  his  lower  nature ;  but  in  the  next 
verse,  believers  are  said  to  be  in  the  spirit  if  the  spirit  of 
God  dwell  in  them,  where  the  signification  of  the  first  "spirit" 
is  doubtful.  On  the  other  hand,  the  divine  spirit  is  said  to 
bear  witness  with  the  believer's  spirit  that  he  is  a  child  of 
God  (v.  16),  and  to  make  intercession  for  men  (v.  27),  and  it 
is  added  that  God,  who  searches  hearts,  knows  the  mind  of 
the  spirit.  Here  there  is  a  clear  distinction  between  God 
and  the  spirit.  In  another  passage  (1  Cor.  ii.  10-13)  there 
seems  to  be  a  blending  of  the  Old  Testament  conception  and 
a  more  developed  view :  God  reveals  his  mystery  to  his 
servants  by  his  spirit,  for  the  spirit  searches  into  and  com- 
prehends God's  deepest  thoughts.  In  explanation  of  this 
fact,  Paul  goes  on  to  say  :  "  Who  of  men  knows  the  things 
of  a  man  save  the  spirit  of  a  man,  which  is  in  him  ?     So  the 

1  lu  the  Targums  the  expression  "  spirit  of  God  "  is  avoided,  and  "  a  spirit 
from  God  "  substituted  for  it,  the  purpose  being  to  eliminate  the  anthropo- 
morphic representation  of  the  divine  being  as  possessing  a  spirit.  The  spirit, 
thus  separated  from  God,  takes  on  a  certain  personality.  In  the  Talmud  it 
is  described  as  the  source  of  all  human  enlightenment  (as  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment), as  the  guide  of  Israel,  —  an  advance  on  the  Old  Testament  in  distinct- 
ness of  conception,  yet  not  necessarily  an  hypostasis.  The  development 
appears  to  be  almost  identical  with  that  in  the  New  Testament.  If  the  later 
Jews  had  hypostatized  the  Memra  (the  Word),  tliey  would  probably  have 
hypostatized  the  spirit  also.     Compare  Weber,  "  System  der  pal.  Theol."  §  40. 


94  THE   DOCTRINE   OF  GOD. 

things  of  God  none  knows  save  the  spirit  of  God,"  where 
the  divine  spu'it  is  represented  as  bearing  the  same  relation 
to  the  divine  being  as  the  human  spirit  to  the  nature 
of  man  ;  yet  the  spirit  as  the  investigator  of  the  divine 
thoughts  seems  to  stand  apart  from  God.  In  2  Cor.  iii.  17, 
18,  the  spirit  is  represented  both  as  a  part  of  the  Lord  and 
as  identical  with  him.  The  most  natural  explanation  of  this 
variation  of  thought  is  found  in  the  supposition  of  an  in- 
complete hypostasis  of  the  spirit.  The  strong  disposition, 
inherited  from  the  Old  Testament  thought,  to  isolate,  per- 
sonify, and  hypostatize  the  divine  spiritual  energy  in  the 
heart  of  man  leads  Paul  sometimes  to  speak  of  the  spirit 
as  almost  a  distinct  divine  entity ;  at  other  times,  the  origi- 
nal conception  of  the  spirit  as  simply  a  part  of  the  divine 
constitution,  thought  of  as  analogous  to  that  of  man,  sug- 
gests expressions  which  make  the  spirit  little  more  than  a 
divine  influence.  In  other  passages  (as  Gal.  iii.  14 ;  iv.  G) 
there  may  be  the  survival  of  the  Old  Testament  conception 
of  a  spiritual  agent  sent  by  God.  We  find  a  similar  differ- 
ence of  conception  in  the  Synoptic  Gospels.  The  Sermon  on 
the  Mount  does  not  mention  the  spirit,  and  such  statements 
as  that  of  Matt.  x.  20,  "It  is  not  ye.  that  speak,  but  the 
spirit  of  your  father  that  speaketh  in  you,"  leave  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  term  undecided.  The  same  thing  may  be  said 
of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  :  God  endows  tlie  disciples  of 
Jesus  with  gifts  of  the  holy  spirit  (ii.  4) ;  it  is  the  voice  of 
this  spirit  that  is  heard  in  the  words  of  the  Old  Testament 
(iii.  7) ;  believers  are  made  partakers  of  the  holy  spirit  (vi. 
4) ;  Christ  offered  himself  to  God  tlirougli  the  eternal  spirit 
(ix.  14);  an  apostate  from  Christianity  does  despite  to  the 
spirit  of  grace  (x.  29).  All  these  expressions  may  be  under- 
stood of  a  simple  divine  influence,  but  they  more  naturally 
suggest  a  hypostatical  conception  not  fully  developed.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  representation  in  Matt  iii.  16,  Luke  iiL 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  95 

22,  where  the  spmt  is  described  as  descending  in  the  shape  of 
a  dove,  involves  a  distinct  idea  of  personality.  The  incident 
mentioned  in  Matt.  xii.  24-32  contrasts  the  spirit  of  God  on 
the  one  side  with  Beelzebub,  and  on  the  other  with  the  Son 
of  Man,  and  appears  therefore  to  ascribe  to  it  as  distinctive 
a  personality  as  belonged  to  them.  This  is  also  the  natural 
interpretation  of  the  baptismal  formula  (Matt,  xxviii.  19) 
where  the  spirit  is  mentioned  along  with  the  Father  and  the 
Son,  and  apparently  as  a  separate  person  ;  though  we  cannot 
certainly  infer  the  equality  of  the  three,  we  must  understand 
the  writer  as  ascribing  distinct  personal  existence  to  the 
spirit.  The  passages  last  cited  all  belong  to  a  later  stratum 
of  the  Gospel  narrative,  and  represent  a  hypostatic  conception 
more  definite  than  that  which  is  found  in  the  utterances  of 
Jesus  himself.  In  the  Fourth  Gospel,  in  which  we  have,  not 
only  a  later,  but  a  more  speculative  theological  system,  the 
spirit  appears  as  a  distinct  person,  but  in  a  relation  of  sub- 
ordination to  the  Father  and  the  Son  :  "  I  will  ask  the  Father 
and  he  shall  give  you  another  paraclete ;  .  .  .  the  spirit  of 
truth  whom  the  cosmos  cannot  receive"  (xiv.  16,  17) ;  "  if  I 
go  not  away  the  paraclete  will  not  come  to  you.  .  .  .  When 
he,  the  spirit  of  truth,  is  come,  he  will  guide  you  into  all  the 
truth,  for  he  shall  not  speak  from  himself,  but  what  he  hears 
he  shall  speak"  (xvi.  7-15). 

There  is  thus  an  evident  advance  of  the  hypostatic  con- 
ception of  the  spirit  within  the  New  Testament  itself.  This 
is  to  be  referred  mainly  to  the  natural  growth  of  the  ten- 
dency, but  we  must  also  take  into  consideration  the  influ- 
ence of  the  distincter  hypostasis  of  the  Messiali.  Paul's 
idealized,  exalted  Jesus  was  necessarily  a  distinct  person, 
resting  on  and  identical  with  the  historical  Jesus ;  and  later 
the  author  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  gave  distinct  form  to  the 
logos  by  making  it  one  with  the  historical  Jesus.  The  hypo- 
static conseption  thus  established  might  be  the  more  easily 


96  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

transferred  to  the  spirit.  Yet  a  difference  continued  to  ex- 
ist between  the  two,  —  there  was  no  historical  person  with 
whom  the  spirit  could  be  identified ;  and  it  is  perhaps  largely 
for  this  reason  that  the  third  person  of  the  Christian  Trinity 
has  never  in  the  history  of  Cliristianity  assumed  so  definite 
a  shape  as  the  second  person,  nor  played  so  prominent  a  part. 
In  the  Christian  consciousness  the  spirit  has  commonly  been 
a  somewhat  undefined,  divine  influence,  which  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  distinguish  from  the  workings  of  the  human 
soul.  And  this  is  the  general  effect  which  the  New  Testa- 
ment representation  makes  upon  us,  —  a  mighty,  divine  in- 
fluence, tending  to  take  shape  in  a  person,  yet  for  the  most 
part  standing  undecidedly  between  the  two  conceptions. 

The  hypostatizing  process  seems  to  have  come  mostly  from 
Gentile  Christianity.  It  is  feeble  in  the  purely  Jewish  books 
of  the  New  Testament,  such  as  Hebrews,  James,  and  the 
Apocalypse ;  it  is  most  completely  elaborated  in  the  Fourth 
Gospel,  the  ideas  of  which  are  controlled  by  Greek  thought. 
Paul,  on  whom  a  Gentile  influence  must  be  recognized,  stands 
midway  between  these  two  extremes.  In  the  more  devel- 
oped statements  of  the  Synoptic  Gospels,  we  may  recognize 
the  influence  of  the  church-thought  which  had  grown  up  out 
of  these  conditions  of  the  times.  We  may  sum  up  by  say- 
ing that  the  hypostatical  conception  of  the  spirit  of  God, 
having  its  roots  in  Old  Testament  thought,  took  more  definite 
shape  in  the  Christianity  of  the  first  century,  partly  by  natu- 
ral growth  and  partly  urged  on  by  the  more  complete  hy- 
postatization  of  the  glorified  Messiah  and  the  Word  of  God. 

The  most  striking  and  distinct  of  the  personifications  of  the 
Old  Testament  is  found  in  the  representation  of  wisdom, 
which  approaches  the  very  verge  of  hypostasis  without,  how- 
ever, reaching  it ;  and  its  relation  to  the  conception  of  the 
divine  word  is  so  close  that  the  two  should  be  considered 
together.     To  the  philosophical  Jewish  school  of  the  second 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  97 

century  B.  c,  wisdom  seemed  the  crowning  attribute  of  deity. 
This  view  rested  on  a  conception  of  life  entirely  distinct  from 
the  sacerdotal  and  the  legal ;  the  former  of  these  looked  on 
God  as  a  power  to  be  placated  by  sacrifice  and  ritual,  and 
the  latter  construed  human  life  as  a  mass  of  actions  to 
be  controlled  by  divinely  given  rules.  Jewish  philosophy, 
always  holding  more  or  less  firmly  to  the  national  life,  yet 
overstepping  national  bounds,  preferred  to  conceive  of  the 
world  as  a  gracious,  beautiful  unit,  the  product  of  the  divine 
mind,  bearing  the  impress  of  God's  perfect  wisdom.  Human 
life,  in  its  ideal  shape  as  a  rounded,  orderly  scheme,  was 
viewed  as  an  element  of  the  divinely  ordered  cosmos,  par- 
taking of  its  constitution  and  governed  by  its  laws.  The 
same  sphit  of  perfect  knowledge  that  filled  the  universe  had 
its  abode  in  man's  soul  and  fashioned  it  into  the  likeness  of 
the  supreme  goodness.  For  the  explanation  of  this  new  di- 
rection of  Jewish  thought  we  must  look  to  the  widening  of 
general  culture  under  the  influence  of  the  new  social  condi- 
tions. Through  contact  with  the  great  Egyptian-Greek 
world  the  Jews  had  come  to  a  better  knowledge  of  the 
physical  and  moral  sciences  of  the  time.  A  certain  portion 
of  the  nation  (probably  not  a  large  one)  came  into  closer 
sympathy  with  these  broader  ideas  and  were  charmed  by 
the  conception  of  the  world  as  a  unit  pervaded  by  a  divine 
fashioning  spirit.  It  was  the  orderliness  of  the  universe  and 
its  obedience  to  law  that  most  impressed  the  imagination  of 
these  thinkers ;  and  since  such  conceptions  are  not  found  in 
pure  Jewish  literature  and  were  foreign  to  Jewish  modes  of 
thought,  we  must  recognize  in  them  the  influence  of  the 
reigning  Greek  philosophies  of  the  day,  especially  the  Pla- 
tonic and  the  Stoic.  In  Jewish  hands  the  Platonic  idealism 
and  the  Stoic  rule  of  law  suffered  a  certain  transformation ; 
they  had  to  be  brought  into  direct  connection  with  the  God 
of  Israel,  whose  thought  had  produced   the  wondrous   uni- 


98  THE   DOCTKINE   OF   GOD. 

verse  ;  aud  this  highest  thouglit  was  naturally  conceived  un- 
der the  form  of  wisdom,  as  the  highest  intellectual,  moral, 
and  spiritual  attribute  of  being.  Wisdom  being  thus  con- 
ceived as  the  all-potent  factor  in  the  physical  and  moral 
world,  it  needed  only  one  step  further  to  personify  it  as  an 
individual  and  universal  energy,  to  ascribe  to  it  functions  of 
physical  and  spiritual  creation  and  maintenance,  the  guid- 
ance of  the  worlds  and  the  purification  and  perfecting  of  the 
human  soul.  Similar  functions  were  ascribed  also  to  the 
divine  spirit  and  word  ;  the  three  conceptions,  standing  in 
so  close  relation  one  to  another,  were  interwoven  one  with 
another  and  sometimes  apparently  identified  and  confounded. 
We  are  not  to  expect  here  sharp  psychological  and  cosmo- 
logical  analysis  and  hypostatic  differentiation.  The  new  con- 
ception of  a  divine  energy  filling  and  fashioning  the  world 
took  hold  of  these  men  with  power ;  and  whether  it  were 
spirit  or  wisdom  or  word  that  most  appealed  to  the  imagina- 
tion of  the  thinker,  each  of  these  ideas  would  for  the  mo- 
ment dominate  his  thought,  and  assume  the  proportions  of 
a  universal  energy.  We  shall  not  be  surprised,  therefore,  to 
find  word  and  wisdom  playing  the  same  part  in  the  world, 
the  functions  of  each  being  ascribed  to  tlie  other;  and  we 
shall  have  to  ask  how  it  was  that  one  of  these  conceptions 
faded  away,  while  the  other  advanced  steadily  in  Christianity 
to  the  fulness  of  hypostatic  form. 

We  may  perhaps  regard  the  description  in  Job  xxviii.  as 
the  earliest  example  in  the  Old  Testament  of  a  philoso])hical 
conception  of  wisdom.^     The  writer  confines  himself  to  de- 

^  The  body  of  the  book  of  Job  cannot  be  put  earlier  than  the  Babylonian 
exile,  and  there  are  strong  grounds  for  giving  it  a  later  date.  Its  elaborate 
discussion  of  facts  of  human  experience,  its  developed  doctrine  of  Satan,  and 
its  Aramaisms,  would  suggest  rather  the  fifth  century  than  tlie  sixth,  if  indeed 
wc  7nnst  not  come  still  further  down  to  find  its  true  place.  The  book  is  not  a 
unit ;  the  Elihu  cj)isode,  chs.  xxxii.-xxxvii.,  is  m.anifcstly  an  interpolation, 
and  chapter  xxviii.  is  clearly  out  of  place  where  it  stands.     It  interrupts 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  99 

daring  the  mysteriousness  of  it,  —  it  cannot  be  found,  he 
says,  in  earth  or  sky  or  deep,  and  only  God  knows  its  place ; 
finally,  it  is  identified  with  the  fear  of  the  Lord  (Adonai). 
Here  is  elaborate  description,  which  shows  that  the  writer 
was  impressed  by  the  idea ;  but  there  is  only  a  feeble  per- 
sonification, and  no  attempt  at  representing  it  as  an  energy. 
Only  it  is  to  be  noted  tbat  that  which  in  the  divine  mind 
is  connected  with  creation  and  government  is  conceived  as 
the  ethical-religious  directive  principle  in  the  life  of  man. 
In  Prov.  iii.  13-20  we  have  a  similar  personification,  only  in 
verse  19  a  closer  connection  with  God's  work  of  creation : 
"  Yahwe  by  wisdom  founded  the  earth."  The  fuller  descrip- 
tion, viii.  1-ix.  6  introduces  a  far  distincter  personification 
and  an  ascription  of  personal  energy  which  shows  a  consider- 
able advance  toward  hypostatizing.  The  most  striking  pas- 
sage is  viii.  22-3 1 :  wisdom,  it  is  said,  was  brought  forth 
before  the  world  was  made,  and  was  present  during  the 
work  of  creation  ;  she  stood  by  the  side  of  God  as  architect 
or  master-workman,  being  daily  his  delight,  and  sporting 
continually  in  his  presence.  The  epithet  "  master-workman  " 
seems  almost  to  ascribe  to  wisdom  the  direction  or  perform- 
ance of  the  work  of  creation.  The  foundation  of  the  repre- 
sentation is  of  course  the  idea  of  the  divine  wisdom ;  but 
this  attribute  is  so  boldly  isolated  and  personified  as  almost 
to  take  the  form  of  an  independent  energy.  Its  moral  func- 
tion is  indicated  by  the  statement  that  its  delight  is  with  the 
sons  of  men.     We  can  scarcely  avoid  regarding  this  as  a  dis- 

Job's  argument,  introducing  a  line  of  thought  quite  foreign  to  the  subject  of 
his  discourse  in  a  style  different  from  that  of  the  remainder  of  the  book.  It 
is  an  addition  by  a  writer  of  a  different  school,  but  we  have  only  the  most 
general  considerations  for  determining  the  date.  There  seems  to  be  nothing 
in  the  history  of  Jewish  literature  to  prevent  our  putting  it  in  the  third  cen- 
tury B.C.;  this  would  bring  it  into  intelligible  connection  with  other  Old 
Testament  passages.  If  we  may  be  guided  by  the  nature  of  the  thought,  we 
should  place  it  in  the  same  category  with  the  canonical  and  apocryphal 
Wisdom-books. 


100  THE  DOCTRINE   OF  GOD. 

tinct  effort  at  hypostatization,  not  completely  successful,  but 
a  very  clear  indication  of  a  tendency  of  thought;  and  the 
passage  on  general  critical  grounds  is  to  be  placed  not  earlier 
than  the  third  century.^ 

The  point  of  view  of  the  Son  of  Sirach  (xi.  1-20 ;  xxiv.) 
does  not  differ  substantially  from  that  of  Proverbs  ;  he  gives 
a  vivid  personification  which  does  not  quite  reach  the  form 
of  an  hypostasis.  Wisdom  is  said  to  have  been  created 
before  all  things  (i.  4,  cf.  Prov.  viii.  22) ;  she  was  poured  out 
on  all  the  works  of  the  Lord  (i.  9),  and  covered  the  earth  as 
a  cloud  (xxiv.  3) ;  she  dwelt  in  high  places,  her  throne  being 
in  the  cloudy  pillar  (xxiv.  4) ;  her  habitation  was  with  the 
sons  of  men  (i.  15,  cf.  Prov.  viii.  31) ;  she  was  commanded 
by  the  Creator  to  make  her  dwelling  in  Israel  (xxiv.  8).  The 
resemblance  to  Proverbs  is  obvious  ;  the  son  of  Sirach  probably 
imitated  the  biblical  book,  on  whose  ideas  he  makes  no  ad- 
vance. A  bolder  conception  is  found  in  the  Wisdom  of 
Solomon.  Wisdom  is  almost  identified  with  God:  "Wisdom 
is  a  philanthropic  spirit,  and  will  not  acquit  the  blasphemer 
of  his  words,  for  Clod  is  a  witness  of  his  reins;  .  .  .  for  the 
spirit  of  the  Lord  fills  the  world  "  (i  6,  7).  She  is  a  source 
of  immortality :  "  Obedience  to  her  laws  is  assurance  of  in- 
corruption,  and  incorruption  brings  us  near  to  God"  (vi.  18, 
19).  In  the  magnificent  description  contained  in  chapters 
vii.  and  viii.  the  author,  inspired  with  fervid  enthusiasm  for 
his  grand  conception,  seems  to  be  on  the  verge  of  a  real  hy- 
po.stasis ;  he  ascribes  to  wisdom  all  conceivable  lovely  quali- 
ties and  beneficent  activities,  so  that  in  certain  passages  it 
might  be  doubtful  whether  he  does  not  conceive  of  her  as  an 
independent  power  and  being.     She  is  a  breath  of  the  power 

1  The  introduction  of  tlie  book  of  Proverbs,  chs.  i.-ix.,  is  distinguished 
from  the  rest  of  the  book  by  its  continuous  di.scourse  and  flowing  style.  The 
social  evils  on  which  stress  is  laid  (i.  10-14;  ii.  16-19;  v.  vi.  1-5  ;  vii.  ix. 
1.3-18)  point  to  tlie  later  city -life.  The  prominence  given  to  wisdom  sug- 
gests a  period  posterior  to  that  of  the  prophetic  thouglit. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  101 

of  God,  a  pure  effluence  from  the  glory  of  the  Almighty,  a 
reflection  of  the  everlasting  liglit,  the  image  of  God's  good- 
ness ;  though  only  one,  she  can  do  all  things,  and  remaining 
in  herself,  makes  all  things  new.  There  are  some  striking 
points  of  contact  between  this  description  and  certain  New 
Testament  passages.  There  is  in  her,  says  the  author,  a 
spirit  intelligent,  holy,  only  begotten,  manifold,  subtle,  lively, 
clear,  undefiled,  plain,  not  subject  to  hurt,  loving  what  is 
good,  penetrating,  unrestrained,  beneficent,  philanthropic, 
steadfast,  trustworthy,  free  from  care,  having  all  power, 
overseeing  all  things,  and  permeating  all  intelligent,  pure, 
and  subtlest  spirits  (cf.  Jas.  iii.  17).  The  tone  and  wording 
of  Heb.  i.  2,  3,  resembles  that  of  Wisd.  vii.  26,  27,  where 
wisdom  is  described  as  the  reflection  of  the  everlasting  light, 
a  mirror  and  image  of  God,  omnipotent  for  good.  This  may 
be  said  indeed  to  mark  the  extreme  point  in  the  advance 
toward  the  hypostatizing  of  wisdom.  Philo  does  not  appear 
to  go  beyond  this.  It  was  natural  that  wisdom  should  play 
a  prominent  part  in  his  conception  of  life,  since  it  is  so  promi- 
nent in  the  Old  Testament,  from  which  he  takes  the  greater 
part  of  his  phraseology.  He  was  also  doubtless  acquainted 
with  the  Alexandrine  Wisdom-books,  and  there  is  little  in 
his  thought  on  this  point  that  may  not  be  found  substan- 
tially in  Proverbs  and  tlie  Wisdom  of  Solomon.  It  has 
already  been  remarked  that  his  conception  of  a  directing 
intermediary  power  between  God  and  the  world  leads  him 
in  many  cases  to  a  practical  identification  of  wisdom,  spirit, 
and  logos ;  only  he  treats  the  last  of  these  most  elaborately, 
dwells  on  it  with  preference,  and  pushes  its  personification 
to  the  farthest  point.  A  few  citations  may  suffice  to  indi- 
cate the  way  in  which  he  treats  the  conception  of  wisdom. 
In  his  discussion  of  Eden  in  the  Allegories  (i.  56)  he  regards 
the  four  rivers  as  representing  the  four  cardinal  virtues,  — 
prudence,  sobriety,  courage,  and  justice,  —  and  adds  that  the 


102  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  GOD. 

greatest  river  whence  the  four  flow  is  generic  virtue,  good- 
ness in  general,  which  arises  from  Eden,  the  wisdom  of  God. 
Wisdom  is  here  the  source  of  human  virtue  and  goodness, 
dehghting  itself  in  God  alone,  —  a  repesentation  which  is 
identical  with  that  of  the  book  of  Proverbs.  Elsewhere 
(ii.  385)  he  calls  wisdom  the  eldest  in  the  creation  of  the 
whole  world,  whom  it  is  neither  lawful  nor  possible  for  any 
but  God  to  judge.  A  distincter  personification  is  given  in 
the  passage  (i.  202)  in  which  she  is  termed  the  mother  of  the 
world,  through  which  everything  was  completed,  God  being 
the  father.  It  is  evident  that  wisdom  here  performs  sub- 
stantially the  function  elsewhere  ascribed  to  the  logos,  it 
being  natural,  indeed,  to  assume  the  identity  of  the  divine 
reason  and  the  divine  wisdom.  In  fact,  the  difference  be- 
tween Philo's  representations  of  the  two  seems  rather  to  be 
one  of  degree  and  circumstance  than  of  essence,  as  will  be 
pointed  out  more  fully  below.  The  conception  of  wisdom 
lent  itself  naturally  to  the  process  of  hypostatizing ;  it  could  be 
looked  on  as  the  largest  and  noblest  of  the  divine  attributes  ; 
but  it  lacked  certain  conditions  which  were  fulfilled  by  the 
conception  of  the  logos.  In  the  New  Testament  the  concep- 
tion of  wisdom  appears  in  the  form  of  distinct  personifica- 
tion, but  goes  no  farther.  Wisdom  is  said  to  be  justified  by 
her  works  (Matt.  xi.  19)  or  by  her  children  (Luke  vii  35)  Of 
Christ  it  is  declared  not  only  that  in  him  are  hid  all  the 
treasures  of  wisdom  (Col.  ii.  3),  but  also  that  he  is  the  wis- 
dom of  God  (1  Cor.  i.  24),  anl  is  made  unto  believers  wisdom 
from  God  (1  Cor.  i.  30).  Here  the  apostle,  in  his  polemic 
against  the  worldly  wisdom  of  Greek  philosophy,  is  naturally 
led  to  identify  the  only  true  and  saving  divine  wisdom  with 
the  glorified  Messiah,  through  whom  God  had  ordained  that 
redemption  should  come  to  men.  But  it  is  still  nothing 
more  than  strong  personification.  Under  favorable  condi- 
tions, we  may  suppose,  the  conception  would  have  advanced 


THE   DOCTRINE   OE   GOD.  103 

to  the  form  of  full  hypostasis  as  it  did  in  some  of  the  Gnostic 
systems,  but  it  has  played  no  such  part  in  Christianity. 

We  come  now  to  the  idea  of  "  the  word,"  and  must  attempt 
briefly  to  trace  the  process  by  wdiich  it  attained  a  complete 
hypostatical  form.  As  the  distinctest  expression  of  human 
thought,  the  word  naturally  represented  reason,  to  which  it 
owed  its  being,  and  was  looked  on  as  the  intermediary  be- 
tween man  and  the  world,  —  the  instrument  by  which  his 
designs  were  accomplished.  This  representation  was  at  an 
early  period  transferred  to  the  divine  being.  His  word  was 
conceived  to  be  the  expression  of  his  thought ;  and  thought 
and  word  were  easily  identified.  His  word  was  the  embodi- 
ment of  his  purpose  and  law,  and  might  be  regarded  as  the 
agent  which  called  his  dispensations  into  being;  it  might 
even  be  looked  on  as  identical  with  the  things  which  itself 
produced.  So  mighty  is  the  effect  of  the  spoken  word  ^  that 
the  natural  tendency  was  to  personify  it  more  and  more  dis- 
tinctly, and  such  we  find  to  be  the  case  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. Throughout  the  prophetic  writings  the  word  of  God 
is  the  divine  message  sent  to  Israel  to  keep  it  in  accord  with 
divine  law ;  it  is  the  transcript  of  the  divine  reason.  Though 
the  prophet  might  sometimes  be  conscious  that  it  was  the  ex- 
pression of  his  own  religious  feeling,  he  nevertheless  always 
looked  on  it  as  a  powerful,  objective,  divine  utterance.  Is 
not  God's  word,  says  Jeremiah  (xxiii.  29),  like  fire,  and  like 
a  hammer  that  breaks  the  rock  in  pieces  ?  The  word  here 
is  merely  the  expression  of  the  divine  thought.  In  one  pro- 
phetic passage  (Isa.  Iv.  11)  there  is  an  approach  to  personi- 
fication :  "  My  word  shall  not  return  to  me  void,  but  it  shall 
accomplish  that  which  I  please,  and  it  shall  prosper  in  the 

1  According  to  primitive  ideas  the  uttered  word  had  an  independent,  ob- 
jective existence  and  power;  a  charm  once  spoken  must  work  its  effect.  So 
in  Gen.  xxvii.  the  blessing  which  Isaac  bestows  by  mistake  cannot  be  recalled 
(vs.  33-37). 


104  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

thing  wliereto  I  sent  it."  Activity  and  efficiency  are  ascribed 
to  the  word  of  God  in  Deut.  viii.  3  :  Man  does  not  live  by 
bread  alone,  but  by  everything  that  proceeds  out  of  the 
mouth  of  God,  —  human  life  is  controlled  by  the  divine 
word.  Still  more  distinct  is  the  personification  iu  certain 
psalm-passages  :  he  sent  his  word  and  healed  them  (Ps.  evil. 
20),  where  the  logos  is  despatched  as  a  messenger  on  a  mis- 
sion of  healing ;  by  the  word  of  the  Lord  were  the  heavens 
established  (Ps.  xxxiii.  C),  where  the  logos  is  the  agent  of 
creation.  In  none  of  these  passages  is  there  anything  more 
than  personification  ;  but  there  is  the  sign  of  a  disposition  to 
isolate  the  spoken  word  as  God's  instrument  in  doing  his 
work,  and  as  the  representative  of  the  divine  reason.  We 
may  here  mention  the  development  which  the  idea  of  the 
word  received  ,in  the  later  Judaism.  In  the  Targums  the 
divine  activity  is  habitually  referred  to  the  Memra,  especially 
where  the  Old  Testament  expressions  are  anthropomorphic, 
where  the  text  speaks  of  God's  face,  eyes,  mouth,  voice,  hand, 
or  of  his  walking,  standing,  seeing,  and  speaking.  It  may 
be  assumed,  therefore,  that  the  expression  Word  of  God  was 
used  in  order  to  avoid  what  seemed  irreverent  in  the  human 
representation  of  the  Divine  Being.  But  the  choice  of  the 
term  was  no  doubt  fixed  by  the  Old  Testament  usage,  espe- 
cially from  such  a  passage  as  Isa.  Iv.  11,  where,  as  we  have 
seen,  an  almost  independent  existence  and  objective  activity 
are  ascribed  to  the  divine  word.  The  usage  of  the  Aramaic 
paraphrases  may  therefore  be  regarded  as  a  natural  growth 
out  of  the  Old  Testament  thought.  The  personification  in 
the  Targums  approaches  very  near  an  hypostasis.  The 
Memra  is  creator  and  lord  of  all  things,  the  guide,  punisher, 
and  rewarder  of  Israel,  and  the  source  of  the  prophetic  in- 
spiration, not  an  angel  and  not  the  IMessiah,  but  a  represen- 
tative of  the  immediate  divine  activity.  Tlie  conception  did 
not  keep  its  hold  on  Jewish  thought ;  it  was  discarded  in  the 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  105 

later  literature.  Yet  it  probably  helped  the  formulation  of 
the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  word.  The  oldest  of  our  pres- 
ent Targums,  indeed,  hardly  dates  farther  back  than  the 
third  century  of  our  era.;  but  we  must  suppose  that  the 
germs  of  their  ideas  existed  some  time  before,  and  it  will 
not  be  rash  to  assume  that  in  the  first  century  Jewish 
thought  had  already  come  to  look  on  the  Memra  as  a  sort  of 
substantial  activity,  intermediate  between  God  and  the  world. 
For  the  Jews  the  conception  did  not  prove  to  be  a  fruitful 
one ;  it  was  coerced  and  ejected  by  their  strict  monotheism, 
but  it  maintained  itself  in  Christianity  for  reasons  to  be 
hereafter  mentioned. 

The  Wisdom  of  Solomon  does  not  advance  beyond  personi- 
fication when  it  represents  the  word  as  the  instrument  of  the 
divine  creation :  "  0  God,  who  didst  make  all  things  by  thy 
word  "  (ix.  1).  The  author  may  have  had  in  mind  the  account 
of  creation  in  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis,  where  the  recur- 
rence of  "  God  said  "  naturally  associates  creation  with  the 
spoken  word  (and  so  in  the  psalm-passages  cited  above) ; 
but  the  spoken  word  necessarily  expresses  and  involves  the 
divine  reason.  In  xvi.  12  there  is  an  expansion  of  the  idea 
of  Ps.  cvii.  20 :  "  Thy  word  heals  all  things."  Here,  as  the 
connection  shows,  the  word  is  identified  with  God,  who  de- 
livered his  people  and  tormented  their  enemies,  who  leads 
down  to  the  gates  of  Hades  and  brings  up  again,  from 
whose  hand  escape  is  not  possible.  In  v.  27  of  the  same 
chapter  is  an  allusion  to  Deut.  viii.  3  :  "  Thy  word  preserves 
them  that  trust  thee."  In  the  description  of  the  death  of 
the  first-born  of  Egypt,  the  author  introduces  a  striking 
poetical  personification  :  "  While  all  things  were  clotlied  in 
deep  silence,  and  night  was  in  the  midst  of  her  swift  course, 
thine  almighty  word  leaped  down  from  heaven  from  the 
royal  throne  like  a  fierce  warrior  into  the  midst  of  the 
doomed  land,  bearing  as   a   sharp   sword   thine   unfeigned 


106  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

commandment ;  it  stood  and  filled  all  things  with  death ; 
it  touched  heaven  and  planted  itself  on  earth."  In  this 
figure  there  is  no  advance  toward  an  hypostasis,  nor  do  we 
find  anything  more  definite  in  the  succeeding  literature  up  to 
Philo,  to  whom  we  must  now  turn. 

In  the  space  at  our  command  it  will  not  be  possible  to  give 
more  than  a  bare  sketch  of  Pliilo's  many-sided  and  intricate 
doctrine  of  the  logos.  That  it  should  involve  many  different 
elements  and  shades,  and  that  these  should  in  some  cases  be 
hard  to  reconcile  with  one  another,  and  sometimes  even  con- 
tradictory, is  what  we  might  expect.  The  Stoic  doctrine  of 
the  logos,  reason  or  word,  as  the  formative  or  directive 
power  in  the  world  including  human  life,  combined  with 
the  Old  Testament  and  later  Jewish  representation  of  the 
energy  of  the  divine  word,  had  taken  a  strong  hold  on  his 
imagination.  Imbued  equally  with  the  love  of  Greek  phi- 
losophy and  with  reverence  for  the  Scriptures  of  his  people, 
he  felt  the  necessity  of  uniting  the  two  in  one  system  of 
thought.  He  had  to  hold  to  the  rational,  orderly  unity  of 
the  world,  the  predominance  of  law  and  reason,  and  at  the 
same  time  maintain  the  supremacy  of  the  one  Almighty 
God.  The  cosmos  stood  out  before  him  as  the  embodiment 
of  reason  and  as  its  creation,  and  at  the  same  time  as  the 
work  of  God  alone.  This  view  was  supplemented  in  his 
mind  by  the  Platonic  theory  of  ideas,  archetypal  forms 
which  existed  in  the  divine  mind  from  all  eternity,  and 
took  shape  under  the  directive  hand  of  reason  in  the  visi- 
ble world  of  nature  and  man.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  in 
so  vast  a  scheme  his  attention  might  be  fixed  on  different 
points  at  different  times,  and  that  his  representation  of 
reason  or  word  would  vary  with  the  material  with  which  lie 
was  employed,  especially  as  his  particular  line  of  thought 
was  often  determined  by  the  Pible  passage  which  he  was 
expounding.     We  have  here   only  to  ask   whether  in   his 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF  GOD.  107 

various  representations  of  the  logos  there  is  one  that  reaches 
an  hypostasis. 

We  need  not  stop  with  tlie  passages  in  which  he  employs 
the  term  as  merely  equivalent  to  abstract  reason  or  to  law, 
as  in  ii.  46,  i.  45  G  ;  let  us  turn  to  those  in  which  there  is  a 
more  or  less  distinct  personification.  One  of  the  simplar 
conceptions  is  that  in  which  the  logos  is  the  primeval  type 
of  things.  "  It  is  evident,"  he  says  (i.  5),  "  that  the  arche- 
typal seal  also,  which  we  call  the  intelligible  cosmos,  is  itself 
the  archetypal  pattern,  the  idea  of  ideas,  the  logos  of  God," 
where  the  logos  is  nothing  more  than  the  divine  thought 
ready  to  express  itself  in  deed.  In  his  comment  on  Gen. 
XV.  10,  "  the  birds  he  did  not  divide,"  the  logos  occupies  the 
same  position  in  the  universe  as  the  soul  in  human  nature  ; 
the  two  intelligible  and  logical  natures —  that  in  man  and  that 
in  the  All  —  he  declares  are  necessarily  each  an  undivided 
whole,  the  logos  of  God  standing  alone,  apart  from  the  crowd 
of  created  and  destructible  things  (i.  505).  This  representa- 
tion approaches  very  near  an  identification  of  the  logos  with 
God,  —  a  step  which  it  would  seem  impossible  for  a  monothe- 
ist  to  take  if  the  logos  were  thought  of  as  a  personal  being. 
It  is  conceivable,  however,  that  the  latter  might  partake  of  the 
divine  nature  without  being  equal  to  God,  and  something 
like  this  Philo  seems  to  say  in  his  allegorical  exposition  of 
the  bite  of  the  serpent  (i.  82)  :  "  Those  who  partook  of  the 
manna  were  filled  with  that  which  was  most  generic,  for 
the  manna  is  called  '  what  ? '  [or  '  something '  according  to  a 
possible  etymology  in  Ex.  xv.  16]  which  is  the  genus  of  all 
things  ;  and  the  most  generic  thing  is  God,  and  second  is 
the  logos  of  God."  It  is  evident  that  by  the  term  "  generic  " 
he  here  means  universal,  and  that  in  ascribing  the  second 
place  in  this  category  to  the  logos,  he  separates  it  from  all 
other  things,  brings  it  into  a  peculiar  relation  with  God,  and 
confers   on   it   a   very   definite  personality.     The   same  in- 


108  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

ference  might  be  drawn  from  those  passages  in  which  he 
speaks  of  the  logos  as  the  image  of  God.  In  his  treatise  on 
]\Ioses'  account  of  the  creation  of  the  world,  remarking  on 
the  superiority  of  the  intelligible  ^  world  over  the  visible,  he 
compares  it  to  the  superiority  of  mind  over  things  of  the 
senses,  and  adds :  "  He  [Moses]  says  that  the  invisible  and 
intelligent  divine  logos  is  the  image  of  God"  (i.  6).  And 
again :  "  And  if  we  are  not  yet  worthy  to  be  esteemed  sons 
of  God,  we  may  be  children  of  his  invisible  image,  the  most 
holy  logos,  for  the  eldest  logos  is  the  image  of  God"  (i.  427). 
A  still  stronger  statement  is  found  in  his  exposition  of  the 
cities  of  refuge,  19:  "But  the  divine  logos  who  is  over 
these  [the  cherubim]  attained  no  visible  idea,  being  sim- 
ilar to  no  object  of  sense,  but  himself  the  image  of  God, 
the  eldest  of  all  ideal  things,  the  nearest  copy,  without  in- 
terval, of  the  only  one"  (i.  561).  Though  such  language 
might  conceivably  be  used  of  the  abstract  divine  reason, 
the  impression  made  on  the  mind  is  rather  that  the  author, 
with  his  intense  conception  of  the  logos  as  the  shaping 
power  of  the  world,  thinks  of  it  as  a  distinct  personality, 
not  one  with  God,  yet  not  to  be  separated  from  him  in  na- 
ture and  essence.  The  logos  is  the  very  stamp  and  image  of 
deity,  and  between  the  two  there  is  no  interval ;  if  this  is 
not  a  true  hypostasis,  it  contains  all  the  elements  in  solu- 
tion, waiting  only  for  the  occasion  which  shall  precipitate 
them  into  an  objective  and  concrete  form.  In  other  pas- 
sages Philo  attempts  to  define  the  nature  of  the  logos  in  its 
relation  to  the  divine.  Speaking  of  its  position  midway  be- 
tween God  and  man,  he  describes  it  as  "  neither  uncreated 
like  God  nor  created  like  you,  but  midway  between  the  two 
extremes,  in  contact  with  both"  (i.  502).  To  the  same  effect 
in  the  treatise  on  dreams,  ii.  28,  where  he  regards  the  high- 
priest  as  the  symbol  of  the  logos :  "  He,  few  when  reckoned 

1  That  is,  the  ideal  world  as  it  existed  in  the  divine  niiud  before  creation. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF    GOD.  109 

with  others,  becomes  when  he  stands  alone  many,  —  the  court, 
the  whole  council,  the  whole  people,  the  crowd,  the  whole 
race  of  men,  rather,  if  the  truth  is  to  be  said,  a  nature  bor- 
dering on  that  of  God,  less  than  he  and  greater  than  man. 
For  '  when,'  it  is  said,  '  the  high-priest  enters  the  Holy  of 
Holies,  there  shall  not  be  a  man'  (Lev.  xvi.  17).  Who  is  he, 
then,  if  not  a  man  ?  Is  he  God  ?  I  would  not  say  so ;  .  .  . 
nor  is  he  man,  but  touches  both  extremes  as  base  and  head  " 
(i.  684).  That  Philo  thinks  it  necessary  here  to  affirm  that  the 
high-priest  as  symbol  was  not  man,  points  to  a  very  definite 
personal  conception  of  a  power  midway  between  God  and 
man  and  partaking  of  the  natures  of  both.^  The  definite- 
ness  of  the  representation  in  this  passage  is  due  in  part  to 
the  fact  that  there  was  a  human  personage  with  which  this 
intermediary  conception  could  be  identified.  The  priest  was 
in  the  form  of  man  as  the  representative  of  man,  yet,  stand- 
ing for  the  whole  human  race,  must  be  universal,  a  divine 
man  ;  nothing  else  than  such  a  being  could  act  as  medium 
between  the  two  extremes  of  deity  and  humanity.  It  will 
be  sufficient  in  this  connection  to  mention  the  title  "first- 
born son,"  which  Philo  in  a  number  of  passages  gives  to  the 
logos  (i.  308,  415,  427,  502)  ;  the  significance  of  this  name 
will  depend  on  the  connection  in  which  it  occurs.  Philo 
goes  still  farther  and  finds  in  the  Scripture  an  ascription  of 
divinity  to  the  logos,  though  he  holds  that  the  word  "  God  " 
is  in  such  cases  used  in  an  improper  (catachrestic),  that  is, 
an  accommodated  sense.  Eemarking  on  Gen.  xxxi.  12,  13, 
according  to  the  Septuagint  text,  he  says :  "  Let  us  examine 
carefully  as  to  wdiether  there  are  really  two  Gods,  for  it  is 
said  '  I  am  the  God  who  appeared  to  thee '  not  in  my  place, 
but  '  in  the  place  of  God'  [so  the  Septuagint  renders  Bethel], 
as  if  another  deity  were  referred  to.     How  are  we  to  treat 

1  That  the  high-priest  here  represents  the  logos  appears  from  such  pas- 
sages as  i.  653,  452,  where  his  symbolic  character  is  definitely  expressed. 


liO  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

this  statement?  The  explanation  is  that  the  true  God  is 
one,  but  those  improperly  so  called  are  many.  The  sacred 
Scripture,  therefore,  denotes  the  true  God  by  the  article, 
saying,  '  I  am  God '  [6  ^eo'9],  and  in  the  other  case  omits  it : 
'Who  appeared  to  thee  in  the  place,' not  of  the  God,  but 
merely  '  of  God.'  Here  he  calls  his  oldest  logos  God,  hav- 
ing no  superstitious  feeling  about  the  application  of  names  " 
(i.  655,  656).  It  is  significant  that  in  spite  of  the  protest 
of  Philo's  monotheistic  feeling  he  here  finds  himself  able  to 
apply  to  the  logos  a  predicate  of  divinity  which  is  evidently, 
in  his  apprehension,  not  an  empty  sound.  It  is  improper, 
he  says  ;  yet  that  he  uses  it  and  that  he  supposes  the  Scrip- 
ture to  use  it  shows  that  he  regarded  it  as  not  wholly  im- 
proper. How  can  we  understand  his  anxiety  to  distinguish 
the  logos  from  God  and  guard  the  supremacy  of  the  latter, 
except  as  an  indication  that  the  former  was  assuming  in  his 
mind  some  sort  of  personality  which  partook  of  the  divine 
nature  ?  "We  may  close  this  statement  of  Philo's  view  of 
the  nature  of  the  logos  by  referring  to  wdiat  he  says  (Life 
of  Moses,  iii.  13)  of  its  twofold  character:  "The  logos  is 
dual  both  in  the  All  and  in  the  nature  of  man ;  in  the  All 
it  relates  to  the  incorporeal  and  typical  ideas  from  which 
springs  the  intelligible  world,  and  to  the  visible  things  which 
are  copies  and  images  of  those  ideas,  from  which  this  per- 
ceptible world  was  established.  And  so  in  man  the  logos 
is  internal  and  uttered,^  the  former  being,  as  it  were,  a 
spring,  the  latter  that  which  flows  from  it"  (ii.  154).  He 
adds  that  the  cosmic  logos  has  the  two  virtues  of  manifesta- 
tion and  truth  (the  Urim  and  Thummim  of  tlie  high-priest)  ; 
the  same  qualities  belong  to  the  two  forms  of  the  human 
logos,  —  manifestation  to  the  uttered  and  truth  to  the  internal. 
This  old  Stoic  double  conception  of  the  human  logos,  the  in- 
ward reason,  and  tlie  uttered  word  which  is  the  expression  of 
1  Endiathetos  and  prophorikos. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  Ill 

this  reason,  is  simple  and  natural.  How  are  we  to  under- 
stand its  application  to  the  divine  logos  ?  The  most  natural 
explanation  is  that  Philo  takes  it  in  a  perfectly  simple  way : 
the  divine  reason,  in  its  nature  purely  reflective,  necessarily 
utters  itself  in  words  or  deeds.  But  so  strong  is  Philo's  con- 
ception of  the  unity  and  divinity  of  the  logos  that  he  cannot 
permit  himself  to  divide  it  into  two  parts  and  to  assign 
to  these  parts  severally  the  qualities  of  manifestation  and 
truth ;  these  two  virtues  he  represents  as  belonging  to  the 
whole  logos,  which  is  thus  the  divine  reason  thinking  and 
acting,- — a  single  conception,  the  jjersonalization  of  the  divine 
energy  which  mediates  between  God  and  the  world. 

Philo's  representation  of  the  function  and  work  of  the 
logos  is  in  accordance  with  his  conception  of  its  nature. 
The  universe,  he  says,  is,  as  it  were,  a  flock,  guided  by  God, 
the  shepherd  and  king,  who  has  set  over  it  his  right  logos, 
his  first-born  son  (i.  308).  Here  the  logos  is  director  of  the 
life  of  the  world;  elsewhere  he  is  presented  as  its  actual 
maker :  "  This  oldest  son  the  father  of  beings  brought  into 
being,  whom  elsewhere  he  named  the  first- begotten,  and  who, 
though  begotten,  yet  imitating  the  ways  of  his  father,  and 
looking  to  his  archetypal  norms,  gave  shape  to  species" 
(i.  414,  415).  He  is  further  described  as  putting  on  the 
world  as  a  garment  and  as  the  bond  which  holds  all 
things  together  (i.  562),  as  the  driver  of  the  powers  which 
control  the  world  (i.  560,  561).  In  a  striking  passage  in  the 
tract  on  The  Heir  of  Divine  Things,  42,  the  logos  is  dis- 
tinctly portrayed  as  mediator  between  God  and  man  :  "  On 
the  archangel  and  eldest  logos  the  father,  who  begat  all  things, 
bestowed  this  choice  gift,  that  he  should  stand  on  the  border 
and  separate  the  created  from  the  Creator.  He  is  a  suppliant 
in  behalf  of  the  mortal  for  immortality,  and  the  ambassador 
of  the  king  for  obedience,  .  .  .  being  neither  unbegotten  like 
God  nor  begotten  like  you,  but  midway  between  the  two  ex- 


112  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

tremes,  bordering  on  both,  appealing  to  the  Creator  in  faith 
that  he  will  never  destroy  the  world,  and  offering  to  the 
creature  the  hope  tliat  the  merciful  God  will  never  disregard 
his  own  work"  (i.  501,  502).  Such  representations  may  no 
doubt  be  understood  of  the  abstract  divine  reason ;  but  their 
frequency  and  distinctness  rather  suggest  a  desire  and  effort 
after  a  separate  personality. 

It  must  be  added  that  Philo  has  other  representations  of 
the  logos.  He  declares  that  God  needed  no  assistant  in 
creation  (i.  5),  that  in  this  work  he  stood  alone  (i.  66).  The 
world  is  said  to  be  founded  on  the  divine  word  (i.  7,  8),  and 
indeed  to  be  the  word  (i.  4,  5,  630).  The  distinctness  of  the 
logos  from  God  is  affirmed  in  a  number  of  passages  (i.  6,  128, 
625,  655).  Its  functions  are  sometimes  nearly  identical  with 
those  of  the  spirit  and  of  wisdom.  There  may  be  many 
logoi,  —  the  laws  of  God  (i.  128).  Philo's  use  of  the  term 
is  so  various  that  one  may  construct  from  his  works  any 
logos-theory  that  one  pleases.  This  variety  of  use,  as  is 
remarked  above,  is  just  what  we  should  expect  from  the 
vastuess  of  the  conception  with  which  the  philosopher's 
mind  was  filled,  and  the  diversity  of  the  sources  from  which 
he  drew  his  material.  A  Jewish  monotheist  expounding  the 
Hebrew  Scriptures  after  Platonic  and  Stoic  principles  might 
well  occasionally  differ  from  himself.  Yet  in  spite  of  diver- 
sities, there  is  a  very  serious  and  persistent  unity  in  his  por- 
traiture of  the  logos  as  the  divine  shaper  and  director  of  all 
things,  —  the  mediator  between  God  and  the  world.  To  this 
conception  the  author  ever  returns  with  greatest  fondness. 
There  is  a  certain  pantheistic  element  in  his  thought :  the 
world  is  the  logos,  for  it  is  nothing  but  the  utterance  of  the 
divine  reason,  a  view  which  resulted  from  the  author's  deter- 
mination to  grasp  the  unity  of  the  universe.  Again,  the 
logos,  though  all-powerful,  is  the  creature  of  God  and  subor- 
dinate to  him,  —  a  Jewish  monotheist  could  take  no  other 


THE   DOCTRINE  OF   GOD.  113 

view.  All  tlirongh  these  variations  of  tlie  theme  the  central 
idea  of  the  logos  as  a  substantially  divine  personality  makes 
itself  heard  with  greater  or  less  distinctness.  This  is  the 
idea  which  is  constantly  striving  to  take  shape  in  Philo's 
mind,  though  it  is  often  jostled  or  excluded  by  other  con- 
ceptions held  with  equal  firmness.  He  was  not  in  position 
to  conceive  a  complete  hypostatization  of  the  logos.  If  there 
had  been  any  visible  historical  person  to  which  to  attach 
the  idea,  it  might  have  been  different ;  it  was  hard  to  elevate 
an  abstract  conception  to  the  position  of  a  person.^  The 
same  difficulty  existed  in  the  case  of  wisdom,  and  to  a  less 
degree  in  the  efforts  at  hypostatizing  the  spirit.  Philo  seems 
to  have  gone  as  far  as  was  possible  for  liim  under  the  cir- 
cumstances;  his  feeling  of  the  necessity  of  an  intermedi- 
ate power  between  God  and  the  world  led  him  to  treat  the 
logos  as  much  more  than  an  abstract  conception,  though  it 
is  not  possible  to  say  that  he  made  it  an  absolutely  dis- 
tinct personality. 

His  preference  for  this  expression  for  the  mediating  power 

1  It  does  not  appear  that  Philo  identifies  the  logos  with  the  Messiah,  or 
even  that  he  mentions  a  Messiah ;  the  passages  cited  as  referring  to  the  Mes- 
siah (ii.  423,  4.36)  hardly  bear  this  interpretation.  The  first  (which  occurs  in 
a  description  of  the  final  defeat  of  evil  men)  reads :  "  For  a  man  shall  go  forth, 
says  the  oracle  [Num.  xxiv.  7],  at  the  head  of  an  army  .  .  .  and  shall  conquer 
great  and  populous  nations."  But  this  "  man,"  as  Oehler  (quoted  by  Drum- 
mond)  remarks,  is  immediately  explained  as  a  symbol  of  courage  and  strength, 
and  in  fact  is  not  again  mentioned.  He  does  not  play  the  role  of  a  Messiah, 
and  he  is  by  no  word  brought  into  connection  with  the  logos.  The  second 
passage,  describing  the  return  of  the  scattered  Jews  to  their  own  land,  says 
that  they  shall  be  led  "by  a  certain  appearance  {Sif/ems)  more  divine  than 
human,"  which  shall  be  invisilile  to  all  but  those  who  are  being  saved.  This 
can  hardly  mean  the  Messiah,  who  would  certainly  not  be  invisible  to  his 
enemies;  nor  is  it  in  this  way  that  Philo  speaks  of  the  logos  The  " appear- 
ance "  seems  to  be  an  allusion  to  the  pillar  of  cloud  and  fire  (Ex.  xiv.  20),  a 
general  guidance  by  God  ;  there  is  no  mention  of  a  person,  human  or  divine, 
as  leader.  He  goes  on  to  say  that  the  people  will  have  three  intercessors  with 
God,  — the  goodness  of  God  himself,  the  holiness  of  their  ancestors,  and  their 
own  improvement;  this  assumes  the  ordinary  national  life,  and  does  not 
favor  the  supposition  of  salvation  by  Messiah  or  logos. 


114  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

was  doubtless  determined  by  the  usage  of  the  Stoic  philos- 
ophy. The  Old  Testament  offered  other  terms  which  might 
have  been  chosen,  such  as  wisdom,  glory,  spirit,  presence. 
But  Philo's  philosophic  studies  would  naturally  fix  his  atten- 
tion on  this  particular  expression,  which,  besides,  best  accorded 
with  the  tendencies  of  the  Greco-Jewish  philosophy  of  the 
time.  That  which  most  appealed  to  one  part  of  the  thought 
of  the  age  was  not  so  much  the  divine  power  or  goodness,  or 
the  spiritual  relation  between  man  and  God,  as  the  concep- 
tion of  law  and  reason  in  the  government  of  the  world. 
The  term  "  logos  "  offered  a  fulness  of  meaning  which  could 
not  be  found  in  any  other  expression.  It  represented  the 
absolute  reason,  and  at  the  same  time  the  utterance  or  ob- 
jective expression  of  this  reason.  It  was  anthropomorphic 
and  in  a  sort  anthropocentric,  but  in  the  grandest  and  purest 
way.  It  glorified  reason,  but  attached  it  inseparably  to  the 
ideal  divine.  It  gave  unity  to  the  world  without  impairing 
the  aloneness  of  God  or  the  independence  of  man.  It  was,  in 
addition,  an  expression  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  invested 
with  peculiar  sacredness  by  prophets,  psalmists,  and  Law. 
It  would  not  be  a  matter  of  surprise,  then,  if  the  idea  got  a 
strong  hold  on  those  Jews  who  were  acquainted  with  Hel- 
lenizing  philosophical  thought.  We  are  not  informed  how 
far  Philo's  writings  were  known  outside  of  Egypt,  but  such 
ideas  could  not  easily  be  kept  within  the  limits  of  one  laud  ; 
in  their  general  outline,  indeed,  they  belonged  to  a  scliool  of 
thought,  and  would  be  likely  to  have  their  representatives  all 
over  Hellenized  Asia.  But  so  far  as  we  know,  it  was  he  who 
fused  the  Stoic  conception  with  the  Old  Testament  thought 
into  a  theological  system  which  might  commend  itself  to 
orthodox  monotheists.  It  was  he  who  made  the  rational 
word  the  only  begotten  Son,  the  image  and  the  agent  of  the 
one  only  true  God  and  Father,  standing  midway  between  the 
extremes  of  the  divine  and  the  human,  in  contact  with  both. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  115 

Within  a  century  after  the  composition  of  Philo's  works 
there  appeared  a  Christian  boolc  in  which  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
was  identified  with  the  logos.^  The  resemblances  between 
the  representations  of  the  word  in  Philo  and  the  Fourth 
Gospel  lie  on  the  surface.  If  we  leave  out  the  fact  of  incar- 
nation, there  is  nothing  in  the  latter  that  is  not  found  in  the 
former.  The  Gospel  describes  the  logos  as  having  existed 
in  the  beginning  in  the  presence  of  God,  partaking  of  the 
divine  nature,  and  as  having  been  the  sole  agent  in  the  divine 
creation ;  lie  is  declared  to  be  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God, 
the  source  of  life  to  men.  Eeference  to  the  quotations  above 
given  will  show  that  all  these  elements  of  the  conception  are 
contained  in  Philo's  representation.  The  distinction  which 
the  latter  makes,  by  the  insertion  or  omission  of  the  article, 
between  the  absolute  divine  being  and  the  divine  nature 
possessed  by  the  logos  is  made  also  in  the  first  verse  of  the 
Gospel.  The  evangelist  seems  to  be  concerned,  like  Philo, 
while  ascribing  the  largest  divine  powers  to  the  logos,  yet  to 
keep  intact  the  substantial  aloneness  of  God  himself.  He 
declares,  according  to  one  reading  of  the  text  (John  i.  18) : 
"  No  one  has  ever  seen  God ;  the  only  begotten  Son  who  is 
in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  he  has  declared  him,"  a  state- 


1  This  is  a  sufficiently  definite  statement  of  the  date  of  the  Fourth  Gospel 
for  our  purposes.  It  is  impossible  here  to  go  into  a  discussion  of  the  numer- 
ous and  intricate  questions  connected  with  the  investigation  of  the  origin  of 
this  Gospel.  The  church  tradition  assigns  the  work  to  the  closing  years  of 
the  first  century,  and  Justin  Martyr  appears  to  have  been  acquainted  with  it. 
From  these  data  we  might  place  it  between  the  years  100  and  1.30,  and  there 
is  nothing  in  the  book  itself  to  make  such  a  date  improbable  ;  at  the  distance 
of  nearly  a  century  from  the  death  of  Jesus,  such  an  idealizing  portrait  of  him 
would  be  not  unnatural,  and  the  existence  of  the  Grecizing  tendency  of 
thought  among  the  Jews  at  that  time  is  vouched  for  by  the  works  of  Philo 
We  are  not  here  called  on  to  decide  how  far  the  author  of  the  Fourth  Gospel 
used  the  other  gospels,  or  in  general  how  far  an  historical  tradition  lay  at  the 
basis  of  his  work  ;  we  have  to  accept  the  book  simply  as  a  product  of  the  first 
part  of  the  second  century,  made  up  of  Christian  material  shaped  under  the 
influence  of  Jewish-Greek  philosophy. 


116  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

ment  which  forms  the  gist  of  Philo's  description,  in  which 
the  logos  is  the  utterance  and  declaration  of  the  invisible 
God.  Another  reading  of  the  Gospel  x^assage  has  "  the  only- 
begotten  God "  instead  of  "  the  only  begotten  Son ; "  as  to 
this  (which  on  its  face  and  in  the  connection  is  less  likely 
than  the  other)  we  can  only  say  that  it  still  makes  a  clear 
distinction  between  this  only  begotten  divine  person  and  the 
absokite  "  God,"  who  is  invisible,  —  a  distinction  likewise 
found  in  Philo. 

The  decisive  difference  between  the  Alexandrian  philoso- 
pher and  the  Gospel  is  that  for  the  latter  the  logos  is  incar- 
nate in  the  person  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  AVe  have  seen  that 
Philo  did  not  identify  the  logos  with  the  Messiah  or  any 
other  man.  It  is  no  doubt  the  failure  of  such  an  identifica- 
tion that  gives  a  wavering  and  indistinct  character  to  his 
conception,  and  deprives  it  of  the  roundness  and  objective 
power  which  resides  in  a  visible  historical  form.  This  was 
the  great  advantage  enjoyed  by  the  Christian  writer  over  the 
Jewish  philosopher,  —  the  presence  of  a  man  in  whom  the 
logos  could  be  seen ;  this  was  the  condition  necessary  for  the 
final  and  complete  hypostatization  of  the  conception. 

We  cannot  trace  in  minute  detail  the  steps  by  which  the 
historical  Jesus  became  one  in  Christian  thought  with  the 
divine  Word,  but  we  may  discern  the  broad  outlines  of  the 
movement.  The  two  elements  of  the  process  of  identification 
are :  the  gradual  idealizing  of  the  person  of  Jesus,  and  the 
acceptance  by  a  part  of  the  Christian  world  of  the  Greek 
philosophy  as  adapted  to  monotheistic  ideas  by  the  Alexan- 
drian Jews.  Tlie  latter  of  these  elements  we  may  consider 
to  have  begun  with  the  establishment  of  the  Philonic  system. 
As  has  already  been  remarked,  there  is  nothing  to  prevent 
our  supposing  that  its  central  point  —  the  conception  of  a 
divine,  rational  word  mediating  between  God  and  the  world, 
—  had  obtained  a  footing  in  Asia  Minor,  where  the  Fourth 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  117 

Gospel  is  described  by  the  tradition  as  Laving  originated. 
There  Philo's  works  may  have  been  known,  or  the  substance 
of  them  may  have  been  discussed  in  philosophizing  circles. 
To  a  Christian  work  embodying  this  conception  a  certain 
definiteness  and  simplicity  would  be  given  by  the  historical 
personage  of  Jesus.  There  would  be  no  need  of  metaphysical 
subtlety  or  indistinctness.  The  divine  word,  spoken  of  in 
the  Old  Testament,  and  elaborated  in  Alexandria  out  of 
Old  Testament  material,  had  appeared  in  visible  form.  The 
author  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  after  in  the  beginning  of  his 
work  identifying  Jesus  with  the  logos,  does  not  return  to  the 
subject ;  he  contents  himself  with  the  portrayal  of  him  as 
the  principle  of  light  and  life  in  the  world,  combating  dark- 
ness and  death.  The  evangelist  necessarily  treats  his  subject 
with  freedom  and  independence.  What  especially  interests 
him  is  to  point  out  how  Jesus,  in  the  midst  of  the  darkened, 
unbelieving  world,  asserts  himself  as  the  absolute  truth,  as 
the  manifestation  of  the  Father  with  whom  he  is  one,  to 
whom,  nevertheless,  he  is  subordinate,  without  whom  he 
can  do  nothing,  by  whom  he  has  been  sent  on  a  mission  of 
eternal  life,  through  whose  power  and  direction  they  who 
have  been  chosen  come  to  the  Son  and  believe  on  him  unto 
eternal  life. 

But  while  in  the  choice  of  the  term  "  logos  "  we  must  recog- 
nize the  connection  between  the  Fourth  Gospel  and  the 
Alexandrian  philosophy,  it  is  also  true  that  in  other  Chris- 
tian circles  during  the  first  century  the  person  of  Jesus  had 
been  steadily  growing  in  dignity.  We  have  no  means  of 
tracing  the  development  of  Paul's  thought  between  his  con- 
version and  the  first  of  his  epistles  ;  but  from  the  beginning 
he  seems  to  have  conceived  of  Jesus  as  the  glorified  Messiah 
invested  by  God  with  supreme  authority  for  the  salvation  of 
men.  On  Christ's  earthly  life  Paul  laid  little  stress.  A  few 
times  he  mentions  his  birth  as  a  man  (Gal.  iv.  4 ;  Ptom.  i.  3), 


118  THE   DOCTKINE   OF   GOD. 

his  sacrificial  death  (Gal.  i.  4 ;  2  Cor.  v.  21 ;  1  Cor.  v.  7),  and 
very  often  his  resurrection  from  the  dead.  On  this  last  point 
he  dwells  with  preference;  it  is  his  real  starting-point  for 
Christ's  work.  The  glorified  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God,  who 
dwelt  from  the  beginning  with  the  Father,  wlio  laid  aside 
his  riches  and  glory  that  he  might  become  the  Saviour  of 
men  (2  Cor.  ii.  9 ;  Phil  ii  6-9) ;  he  is  the  power  of  God  and 
the  wisdom  of  God  (1  Cor.  i.  24),  the  Saviour  and  Lord  of 
believers.  On  the  other  hand,  he  is  distinguished  from  and 
subordinated  to  God ;  there  is  one  God,  the  Father,  and  one 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  (1  Cor.  viii.  6),  and  at  the  end  he  shall  de- 
liver up  his  kingdom  to  God  and  be  subjected  to  him  who 
subjected  all  things  to  him,  that  God  may  be  all  in  all  (1  Cor. 
XV.  24-28).  Paul's  view  doubtless  arose  from  the  combina- 
tion of  his  Old  Testament  monotheism  witli  his  exalted  con- 
ception of  the  spiritual  function  of  the  Messiah.  Jesus  he 
believed  had  been  raised  from  the  dead  to  reconcile  men  to 
God  ;  such  a  task  demanded  the  noblest  personality  and  the 
largest  authority  compatible  with  the  aloneness  of  God. 
Jesus  is  supreme  in  the  Church,  but  he  derives  all  his  au- 
thority from  the  Father.  This  view  may  have  so  leavened 
Cliristian  opinion  as  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  preciser 
statement  of  the  Fourth  Gospel.  It  is,  in  fact,  itself  a  long 
step  toward  a  complete  hypostatization.  Jesus,  according 
to  Paul's  view,  is  far  above  all  otlier  beings  except  God, 
one  with  him  in  purpose  and  act,  only  less  than  he  in  the 
universe. 

In  this  connection  we  must  mention  the  representations  of 
Jesus  given  in  Hebrews,  Ephesians,  and  Colossians,  in  wliich 
the  influence  of  the  Greek  thought  seems  recognizable. 
The  expressions  in  Heb.  i.  2,  3,  in  which  the  Son  is  God's 
agent  in  creation,  the  effulgence  of  his  glory  and  the  image 
of  his  substance,  remind  us  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  and  Philo  ;  ^ 
1  And  see  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  vii.  26. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  119 

and  here  also  the  Son  receives  this  glory  by  the  appointment 
of  the  Father,  that  he  may  become  the  Saviour  of  believers. 
In  Ej^hesians  and  Colossians  Christ,  while  his  function  in 
the  Church  is  substantially  identical  with  the  teaching  of  the 
Pauline  epistles,  is  conceived  in  a  more  philosophical  and 
ideal  way ;  in  him  all  things  in  the  universe  are  summed  up 
(Eph.  i.  10);  he  is  the  image  of  the  invisible  God,  the  first- 
born of  all  creation  ;  through  him  all  things  were  made,  and 
in  him  they  consist;  he  possesses  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom 
and  knowledge,  and  in  him  dwells  all  the  fulness  of  the  God- 
head bodily  ;  he  is  seated  at  the  right  hand  of  God;  he  is  the 
life  of  believers,  who  shall  share  in  the  glory  of  his  manifes- 
tation. These  expressions  we  are  warranted  in  interpreting 
in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  Paul  and  of  Hebrews  :  Christ, 
being  the  sum  of  the  universe,  and  having  in  him  all  the  ful- 
ness of  the  Godhead,  is  yet  to  be  distinguished  from  God, 
from  whom  he  derives  his  authority,  and  on  whose  aloneness 
he  does  not  impinge.  These  epistles  we  may  regard  as  hav- 
ing been  composed  in  sympathy  with  the  Pauline  doctrine, 
but  under  the  influence  of  the  Alexandrine  philosophy. 
Possibly  they  form  the  transition  from  the  earlier  to  the 
later  conceptions  of  the  person  of  Jesus.  Indeed,  the  state- 
ment in  the  proem  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  though  more  suc- 
cinct and  scientific  in  form,  is  not  more  decided  than  what 
we  find  in  Hebrews  and  Colossians. 

There  is  no  lack  of  unity  in  this  portrait  of  Jesus.  There 
are  no  inconsistencies  and  discrepancies  in  the  utterances  of 
Jesus  respecting  himself  or  in  the  introduction  to  the  Fourth 
Gospel,  if  we  look  on  the  evangelical  logos  as  substan- 
tially identical  with  that  of  Philo,  the  divine  reason  and 
word,  the  divine  manifestation  of  God,  one  with  man  and 
one  with  God,  Maker  and  Lord  of  all  things,  yet  always 
under  the  control  of  the  only  one  God,  the  Son  having 
the  glory  of  the  only  begotten  of  the  Father,  the  one  source 


120  THE   DOCTRINE  OF  GOD. 

of  life  and  salvation,  the  one  power  able  to  regenerate  the 
world. 

In  contrast  with  these  representations,  the  picture  of  the 
"Word  of  God  in  the  New  Testament  Apocalypse  (xix.  13-16) 
follows  the  Jewish  Old  Testament  conception.  The  Word, 
who  is  King  of  Kings  and  Lord  of  Lords,  smites  the  nations 
with  the  sharp  sword  which  proceeds  out  of  his  mouth, 
rules  them  with  a  rod  of  iron  (Ps.  ii.  9),  and  treads  the 
wine-press  of  the  fierceness  of  the  .wrath  of  Almighty  God 
(Tsa.  Ixiii.  3).  This  may  be  called  the  purely  Jewish-Chris- 
tian conception. 

Paul's  view  was  determined  by  his  intense  and  lofty 
moral-spiritual  earnestness,  which  led  him  to  construe  the 
glorified  Messiah  as  the  saviour  from  sin,  the  creator  of 
righteousness,  and  the  reconciler  of  God  and  humanity.  We 
have  no  need  to  call  in  the  Alexandrian  philosophy  in  order 
to  understand  his  position.  The  case  is  different  with  the 
other  New  Testament  writings  cited  above,  in  which  so  many 
of  the  expressions  are  identical  with  those  of  systems  based 
on  Greek  thought. 

We  conclude  from  this  survey  that  there  are  in  the  New 
Testament  two  distinct  lines  of  advance  in  the  construction 
of  the  person  of  Jesus,  —  the  one  Pauline,  the  other  Alex- 
andrian. The  first  was  soteriological,  the  second  philosophi- 
cal ;  the  first  magnified  the  person  of  the  Messiah  so  as  to 
bring  it  into  harmony  with  the  great  function  assigned  him, 
—  a  function  the  conception  of  which  Paul  seems  to  have 
reached  by  spiritualizing  the  Old  Testament  view  of  salva- 
tion ;  the  second  identified  Jesus,  the  Messiah,  with  the 
grand  mediatorial  figure  which,  first  presented  by  the  Stoics, 
was  elaborated  in  Alexandria,  and  perhaps  elsewhere,  in 
accordance  with  Jewish  monotheism.  The  blending  of  these 
two  lines  of  thought  is  visible  in  Hebrews,  Ephesians,  Colos- 
sians,  and  the  Fourth  Gospel,  in  which  we  have  the  culmina- 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  121 

tion  of  the  effort  made  by  the  early  Christian  thought  to 
ideahze  the  person  of  the  Messiah  in  the  loftiest  spiritual 
way.  Yet,  as  we  have  seen,  the  New  Testament,  with  all 
the  grandeur  of  character  and  function  that  it  ascribes  to  the 
Christ,  maintains  the  unique  supremacy  of  the  one  God. 
The  demand  for  a  mediating  power  between  God  and  human- 
ity is  pushed  to  the  farthest  point  which  thought  can  occupy 
consistently  with  the  maintenance  of  the  absoluteness  of  the 
one  Supreme  Deity. 

5.  In  connection  with  the  development  of  the  theistic 
idea,  we  must  consider  the  conception  of  the  relation  of  God's 
self-manifestation  to  the  laws  of  the  natural  world.  In  the 
early  times  of  Israelitism,  as  in  all  primitive  systems  of  re- 
ligion, there  was  no  sharply  marked  distinction  between  the 
natural  and  the  supernatural.  The  scientific  idea  of  the  orderly 
constitution  of  nature  according  to  law  did  not  exist,  or  at 
least  had  not  been  so  formulated  as  to  exercise  a  controlling 
influence  over  human  thought ;  it  was  easy  and  natural  to 
regard  the  deity  as  interposing  at  will  in  the  affairs  of  life. 
"VVe  may  distinguish  two  stadia  in  the  conception  of  divine 
intervention.  There  was  the  primitive,  naive  feeling  that 
the  deity  was  everywhere,  showing  himself  in  all  occurrences 
of  life,  but  especially  recognizable  in  great  calamities  and 
blessings  and  other  stupendous  events.  Survivals  of  this 
feeling  in  the  Old  Testament  may  be  seen  in  the  familiar 
intercourse  between  God  and  the  patriarchs  in  Genesis,  and 
in  such  occurrences  as  the  appearance  of  the  angels  to  Gideon 
and  Manoah  (Judg.  vi.  11  ;  xiii.).  The  second  stage  belongs 
to  the  more  highly  developed  theocratic  feeling,  according  to 
which  the  whole  life  of  Israel  was  under  the  direct  and  con- 
stant supervision  and  guidance  of  its  God;  and  all  things, 
great  and  small,  simple  and  involved,  were  his  doing.  Whether 
it  were  the  appointment  of  a  king,  or  the  overthrow  of  an 
enemy,  a  message  of  encouragement  or  reproof  through  the 


122  THE  DOCTRINE   OF  GOD. 

mouth  of  a  prophet,  or  the  revelation  of  a  law  of  worship  and 
conduct,  the  bestowal  of  bounteous  crops,  or  the  infliction  of 
pestilence  or  famine,  the  decision  of  a  lot  between  two  men, 
the  overthrow  of  a  nation  or  its  restoration  to  its  own  land, 
—  all  was  the  immediate  work  of  Yah  we,  God  of  Israel. 
From  this  point  of  view  there  was  no  great  distinction  be- 
tween ordinary  and  extraordinary  divine  action ;  the  latter 
only  served  to  call  man's  attention  more  sharply  to  the 
divine  presence.^  The  Old  Testament  writings  abound  in 
angelic  appearances,  prophetic  messages,  and  other  indica- 
tions of  the  constant  readiness  of  Yahwe  to  take  part  in  the 
affairs  of  his  people. 

At  the  same  time  there  are  indications  of  another  popular 
view  which  looked  on  life  simply  as  a  sequence  of  events,  the 
natural  progression  of  which  it  described  without  feeling 
called  on  to  recognize  in  it  a  divine  element.  The  stories  of 
Micah  and  Samson  in  the  book  of  Judges,  much  of  the  his- 
tory of  David  in  Samuel,  and  of  the  annals  of  the  monarchy 
in  Kings,  are  mere  records  of  natural  occurrences  from  the 
human  point  of  view  ;  and  in  the  story  of  Esther,  in  the  form 
in  which  it  occurs  in  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  the  divine 
agency  is  completely  lost  sight  of.  This  non-religious  con- 
ception of  life  was  as  natural  to  the  Israelites  as  it  is  to  our 
own  times,  when  even  persons  distinctly  or  fervidly  religious 
describe  social  or  political  occurrences  without  ever  thinking 
of  introducing  divine  agency ;  the  belief  in  God  exists,  but 
the  attention  is  absorbed  by  the  events  described. 

The  tendency  of  social  growth  is  to  favor  this  non-religious 
mode  of  conceiving  history ;  the  presence  of  law  and  order 
is  more  and  more  recognized,  and  it  is  felt  more  and  more 
strongly  that  recognition  of  and  obedience  to  this  order  in 
human  life  is  a  prime  condition  of  success.     The  conviction 

1  Cf.  the  modern  popular  distinction  between  general  and  particular 
providence. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  123 

of  divine  supremacy  remains ;  but  the  impression  of  the 
natural  order  of  things  becomes  more  and  more  powerful. 
Men  learn  to  depend  on  themselves ;  and  self-reliance  is  har- 
monized with  dependence  on  God  by  the  belief  that  he  mani- 
fests himself  in  accordance  with  natural  law.  There  is 
perhaps  a  hint  of  this  feeling  in  the  story  told  in  Isa.  vii. 
10-12,  where  Aliaz,  engaged  in  preparing  the  defences  of 
Jerusalem,  declines  to  ask  a  sign  from  Yahwe ;  the  ground 
he  assigns  for  his  refusal  is  that  he  does  not  wish  to  tempt 
the  God  of  Israel,  but  his  real  reason  perhaps  was  that  he 
relied  more  on  fortifications  than  on  divine  signs.  Whether 
this  was  the  case  with  Aliaz  or  not,  we  find  in  certain  late 
post-exilian  books,  as  Ezra  and  Nehemiah,  a  very  decided 
non-miraculous  view  of  life.  Toward  the  close  of  the  exile, 
the  return  to  Canaan  had  been  painted  in  glowing  colors  by 
the  second  Isaiah ;  Yahwe,  said  the  prophet,  would  prepare 
the  way  for  his  people,  bring  them  witli  joy  and  gladness  to 
their  land,  and  there  establish  them  in  never-ending  blessed- 
ness as  the  centre  and  head  of  all  the  nations.  The  actual 
event  formed  a  bitter  contrast  to  the  brilliant  anticipations 
of  the  prophet.  All  the  energies  of  the  little  community  of 
returned  exiles  were  devoted  to  wringing  a  bare  subsistence 
out  of  the  soil,  and  painfully  building  a  temple  greatly  in- 
ferior to  that  of  Solomon.  Life  dragged  on  slowly  till  Ezra 
and  Nehemiah  came,  and  gave  a  new  impulse  by  restoring 
the  furtifications  of  the  city  and  introducing  the  elaborate 
ritual  law  which  had  been  developed  in  Babylonia.  Still,  the 
hard  reality  of  the  situation  forced  itself  on  the  consciousness 
of  the  people ;  the  Persian  empire  embraced  all  the  territory 
of  the  earth  known  or  accessible  to  the  Jews,  and  its  over- 
whelming power  made  independence  for  the  smaller  nations 
impossible.  Nehemiah  felt  himself  to  be  simply  a  Persian 
governor,  and  trusted  for  success  to  the  arts  of  a  skilful 
politician ;  he  and  Ezra  lived  in  the  consciousness  of  God's 


124  THE  DOCTRINE   OF  GOD. 

presence,  but  they  looked  for  no  physical  aid  from  that 
source.  At  least,  in  the  books  which  bear  their  names, 
which  a  century  and  a  half  later  narrated  the  history  of 
their  mission,  there  is  no  trace  of  supernatural  interven- 
tion, nothing  but  a  purely  human  course  of  events. 

The  same  characteristic  is  found  in  the  remaining  histori- 
cal literature  down  to  the  beginning  of  our  era,  which  records 
contemporary  events.  It  is  otherwise  with  Chronicles,  the 
Apocalyptic  books  and  2  jMaccabees ;  ^  but  Chronicles  deals 
with  a  remote,  transfigured  past,  the  Apocalypses  with  an 
ideal,  glorified  future,  and  2  Maccabees  was  written  long 
enough  after  the  events  it  describes  for  a  halo  of  embellish- 
ment to  gather  about  the  history. 

In  the  first  century  of  Christianity  we  come  again  on  a 
period  of  miracle.  We  have  not,  it  is  true,  contemporary 
accounts  of  the  lives  of  Jesus  and  his  disciples ;  the  Gospels 
and  Acts  were  composed  a  generation  or  two  after  the  events 
with  which  they  are  concerned,  and  tradition  would  naturally 
increase  the  mass  of  supernatural  material.  But  the  tradi- 
tion testifies  to  the  existence  of  the  belief  in  miracle ;  and 
we  can  hardly  avoid  the  conclusion  that  it  had  a  basis  in 
fact ;  that  is,  that  the  apostles  and  other  prominent  disciples 
did  claim  to  work  miracles.  Their  miraculous  activity  was 
not,  as  is  true  in  a  great  part  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  a 
great  part  of  the  Apocalyptic  books,  directed  to  national 
ends  ;  it  was  individual  in  its  aim.  The  apostles  went  about 
doing  good,  and  using  their  deeds  of  healing  as  the  occasion 
of  announcing  the  principles  of  the  new  kingdom  of  God. 
For  a  parallel  to  this  in  the  Old  Testament  we  must  look 
to  the  quiet,  beneficent  activity  of  Elisha.  The  New  Testa- 
ment miracles  are,  however,  not  simply  individual  or  physi- 
cally beneficent  in  their  aim ;  they  look  also  to  shutting  the 
mouths  of  opponents,  and  demonstrating  the  divine  origin- 

•  1  iii.  24  ;  v.  2,  3  ;  x.  20,  30;  xv.  12-16. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  125 

of  the  new  religion.     The  Messianic  kingdom  of  God  has 
taken  the  place  of  the  old  national  Israel.^ 

The  ground  of  this  outburst  of  miracle  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment times  must  be  sought  first  in  the  belief  that  the  Mes- 
sianic age,  as  the  final  era  of  prosperity  for  Israel,  would  be 
ushered  in  and  maintained  by  the  direct  intervention  of  di- 
vine power.  So  soon  as  it  was  believed  that  Jesus  was  the 
Messiah,  the  memory  of  the  disciples,  dwelling  fondly  on 
the  history  of  his  blessed  life,  would  naturally  fill  it  up  with 
these  special  signs  of  the  divine  presence ;  and  in  the  same 
way  a  later  generation  would  clothe  the  grand  figures  of  the 
apostles  with  supernatural  glory.  This  feeling  continued  to 
exist  in  the  Church  for  many  centuries ;  every  great  saint 
was  credited  with  miraculous  power,  and  this  in  a  perfectly 
simple  and  sincere  way.  Tlie  legends  of  the  saints  were  not 
invented,  but  grew  up  out  of  the  conviction  that  to  such 
eminent  servants  of  God  must  be  vouchsafed  the  impartation 
of  special  power  from  on  high.  It  is  in  the  historical  books 
of  the  New  Testament  that  the  miraculous  element  is  most 
prominent.  There  is  a  difference  in  the  portraiture  of  super- 
natural activity  between  the  three  first  Gospels  and  the 
Fourth :  in  the  former,  the  work  of  Jesus  is  one  of  simple 
beneficence  ;  in  the  latter  it  is  the  outstreaming  of  his  divine 
nature  and  the  manifestation  of  his  glory  (John  ii.  11) ;  in 
this  respect  Acts  resembles  the  Synoptics.  The  attitude  of 
the  Epistles  toward  the  supernatural  is  different.  Paul 
recognizes  it  almost  exclusively  in  the  fundamental  facts 
of  Christianity,  the  resurrection  and  ascension  of  Jesus,  the 

1  Whether  Jesus  himself  claimed  to  perform  miracles,  the  data,  as  it  seems 
to  me,  do  not  enable  us  to  decide.  The  Gospel  accounts  which  ascribe  mirac- 
ulous powers  to  him  may  be  explained  as  the  product  of  reverent  tradition. 
His  lofty  spiritual  simplicity  is  against  rather  than  for  the  supposition  that 
he  assumed  such  powers.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  the  manner  of  the  time 
to  believe  in  miracle,  and  he  might  have  shared  this  belief  without  impairing 
his  ethical  and  spiritual  purity. 


126  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

divine  origin  of  the  plan  of  salvation,  and  in  his  own  special 
call  to  the  apostleship  and  instruction  by  the  divine  Spirit 
in  the  principles  of  Christ.  He  dwells  on  his  own  experience, 
his  conversion  (Gal.  i.  11-24),  and  his  visions  and  revelations 
(2  Cor.  xii.  1-4)  ;  but  he  does  not  claim  the  power  of  work- 
ing physical  miracles,^  and  describes  his  own  w^ork  among 
the  churches  in  purely  human  terms,  except  that  a  general 
divine  guidance  in  his  life  is  always  presupposed. 

It  appears,  therefore,  that  the  New  Testament  view  of  mi- 
raculous divine  intervention  in  the  affairs  of  men  is  substan- 
tially the  same  with  the  second  or  theocratic  stage  of  the  Old 
Testament  representation.  The  Church  has  taken  the  place 
of  the  nation,  and  God  intervenes  in  a  special  way  when  the 
interests  of  the  Church  require  it.  The  priniitive  view  which 
saw  the  deity  in  every  fact  and  act  has  passed  away,  —  a 
natural  sequence  of  events  is  recognized  in  ordinary  occur- 
rences ;  but  the  life  of  the  kingdom  of  God  is  not  only  to  be 
maintained  by  constant  impartation  of  the  divine  Spirit,  — 
it  is  to  be  guarded  from  attacks  of  enemies,  human  and  super- 
human, by  supernatural  intervention.  The  growing  feeling 
in  favor  of  natural  order  is  modified  by  the  conviction  that 
the  Church,  as  a  special  creation  of  God,  is  marked  off  from 
the  rest  of  the  world,  stands,  indeed,  in  sharp  contrast 
with  the  world,  and  demands  the  special  protection  of 
God,  This  conception  (which  maintained  itself  many  cen- 
turies) gave  a  natural  color  to  miracles  within  the  Church  ; 
it  underlies  the  whole  of  the  New  Testament  scheme  of 
thought.  It  was  the  subtraction  of  a  definite  segment  of  life 
from  the  domain  of  natural  law.  The  subsequent  thought 
of  the  Church  has  constantly  tended  (though  with  excep- 
tions) to  limit  the  agency  of  the  supernatural  to  the  New 
Testament  times.     The  feeling  is  that  while  the  establish - 

1  lie  mentions,  however,  the  working  of  miracles  as  one  of  the  charismata 
(1  Cor.  xii.  10). 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  127 

ment  of  the  Church  was  an  event  of  such  magnitude  as  to 
demand  the  immediate  intervention  of  God,  its  maintenance 
is  left  to  the  working  of  natural  or  invisible-spiritual  powers. 
6.  In  this  connection  a  word  may  be  said  as  to  the  au- 
thority accorded  to  the  Scriptures  from  the  time  of  Ezra  to 
the  end  of  the  first  Christian  century.  The  solemn  descrip- 
tion of  the  introduction  of  the  Law  in  Neh.  viii.  indicates 
that  it  was  looked  on  as  the  divinely  given  guide  of  life.  If 
this  narrative  be  supposed  to  be  colored  by  the  feeling  of 
a  later  time,  it  still  appears  from  Chronicles  that  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  fourth  century  b.  c,  the  Levitical  Code 
was  recognized  as  an  authoritative  standard.  In  a  work  of 
the  second  century  (1  Mac.  iii.  48),  we  find  testimony  as  to 
the  estimation  in  which  the  Law  was  then  held ;  the  canoni- 
cal character  of  Jeremiah  and  therefore,  as  we  may  infer,  of 
all  the  prophets,  is  involved  in  Dan.  ix.  2,  and  all  three 
canons  are  mentioned  in  the  second  prologue  to  Ecclesiasti- 
cus.  Numerous  quotations  from  the  Old  Testament  in  the 
later  books  show  that  its  contents  were  familiar  to  the  writers, 
though  nothing  is  said  of  a  specifically  divine  authority,  ex- 
cept in  relation  to  Moses  and  the  Law  (Ecclus.  xlv.  17);  see 
Wisd.  xvi.-xix.,  Ecclus.  xliv.-xlix.  (a  list  of  Old  Testament  wor- 
thies, but  in  chapter!,  the  non-biblical  higli-priest  Simon, the 
son  of  Onias,  B.  c.  219-199,  is  also  mentioned),  1  Mac.  iii. 
18,  19  (cf.  Ps.  xxxiii.  16,  2  Chron.  xiv.  11) ;  iv.  9 ;  2  Mac.  ii. 
8 ;  i.  20.  The  schools  of  law,  which  existed  from  the  second 
century  down,  are  a  proof  of  the  peculiar  position  held  by 
the  Pentateuch.  That  this  reverence  for  the  Scriptures  ex- 
isted in  Egypt  as  well  as  in  Palestine  is  shown  by  the  Alex- 
andrian-Greek translation,  which  was  probably  begun  in  the 
early  part  of  the  third  century,  and  finished  about  the  end 
of  the  second.  There  was  no  attempt  at  this  time  to  define 
the  precise  nature  or  extent  of  the  authority  of  the  Scripture ; 
this  subject  was  first  touched  on  by  Philo,  who  ascribed  to 


128  THE  DOCTRINE   OF  GOD. 

the  Old  Testament  writers  an  inward  clearness  of  vision 
bestowed  by  God,  and  held  the  prophets  to  be  interpreters 
of  the  divine  will,  jMoses  being  at  their  head,  the  interpreter 
of  God  in  the  highest  sense  (i.  511 ;  ii.  163).  Though  he 
regards  all  biblical  books  as  in  a  peculiar  sense  authorita- 
tive, he  makes  a  marked  distinction  between  the  Law  and 
the  others ;  and  it  must  be  added  that  he  claimed  a  sort  of 
inspiration  for  himself,  —  he  sometimes  felt  his  soul  suddenly 
filled  with  ideas  from  above;  he  was  seized  with  enthusiasm, 
and  believed  himself  to  be  in  direct  conmiunication  with  the 
divine  spirit  (i.  441,  692). 

This  view  of  the  inspiration  and  authority  of  the  Old 
Testament  accords  in  general  with  the  indications  of  the 
New  Testament  and  the  Talmud,  and  may  be  accepted  as  the 
prevailing  Jewish  opinion  in  the  first  century  of  Christianity. 
There  is  no  definition  in  the  New  Testament  of  the  authority 
of  the  inspired  writings ;  the  most  express  statement  respect- 
ing their  value  is  found  in  2  Tim.  iii.  16:  "Every  Scripture 
which  is  inspired  by  God  is  also  profitable  for  teaching,  for 
reproof,  for  correction,  for  righteous  instruction,  that  the 
man  of  God  may  be  complete,  fully  equipped  for  every  good 
work."  They  are  abundantly  cited  in  proof,  or  illustration, 
or  as  prediction  of  facts  and  doctrines,  generally  without 
mention  of  author  or  place,  with  the  formulas,  —  "  as  it  is  writ- 
ten," "  which  was  spoken  by  the  Lord  through  the  prophet," 
"the  Scripture  says,"  sometimes  "he  says  to  Moses,"  "  Isaiah 
cries,"  "  David  says,"  "  one  has  somewhere  testified,"  "  the 
Holy  Ghost  says,"  sometimes  without  introductory  formula. 
But  we  also  find  citations  or  insertions  from  other  than  Old 
Testament  books ;  as,  for  example,  from  the  book  of  Enoch 
in  Judo  and  Eevelation,  and  possibly  from  2  Mac.  vii.  in 
Heb.  xi.  35  ;  and  even  late  Jewish  traditions  are  introduced 
in  the  same  way  as  biblical  citations :  Paul  speaks  of  the 
rock  which  followed  Israel  through  the  wilderness  to  supply 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  129 

them  with  water  (I  Cor.  x.  4),  Acts  (vi.  22)  represents  Moses 
as  instructed  in  Egyptian  wisdom,  and  2  Tim.  iii.  8,  gives  the 
names  of  the  Egyptian  magicians  who  withstood  Moses.  It 
is  evident  from  these  examples  that  no  such  sharp  discrimi- 
nation between  canonical  and  uncanonical  books,  and  no 
such  detailed  theory  of  inspiration  existed  in  the  first  cen- 
tury as  were  afterward  elaborated  in  the  Christian  Church. 
We  must  suppose  a  more  fluctuating  conception  of  inspired 
writings.  The  Old  Testament,  in  the  form  in  whicli  we  now 
have  it  (the  Palestinian  Canon),  was  looked  on  with  peculiar 
reverence  as  the  fountain  of  divine  truth ;  but  all  the  books 
of  the  Greek  Canon  were  also  held  in  high  estimation,  and 
still  other  books,  which  never  became  canonical,  were  re- 
garded not  only  as  historically  trustworthy,  but  as  valid 
religious  guides.  It  is  probable,  as  is  said  above,  that  a 
peculiar  pre-eminence  was  assigned  to  the  writings  ascribed 
to  Moses ;  but  beyond  this,  we  have  little  to  guide  us  in 
determining  the  reigning  opinion  respecting  the  degrees  of 
authority  of  inspired  works. 

When  we  turn  to  the  Scriptures  themselves,  we  do  not 
find  in  the  later  books  of  the  Old  Testament  a  specific  claim 
to  be  regarded  as  infallible  religious  standards  and  guides. 
The  Law  purports  to  be  a  direct  verbal  revelation  from  God, 
and  the  prophets  affirm  that  they  speak  what  is  put  into 
their  mouths  by  the  divine  spirit ;  but  the  books  of  the  Third 
Canon  are  conceived  in  purely  human  style,  as  the  utterances 
of  historians,  sages,  and  poets  who  chronicle  facts  and  ex- 
press their  reflections  and  emotions  purely  out  of  the  natural 
impulse  of  authorship.  There  is  no  consciousness  in  Chron- 
icles, Ecclesiastes,  Proverbs,  Psalms,  of  the  right  to  be  re- 
garded as  standards  of  faith,  no  expectation  of  being  received 
into  a  third  division  of  inspired  Scriptures. 

The  New  Testament  writers  in  like  manner  (with  the 
exception    of   the   Apocalyptist)   lay   no   claim    directly   to 


130  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

divine  inspiration.  In  the  First  and  Second  Gospels,  the 
writers  say  nothing  of  their  mode  of  composition ;  the  au- 
thor of  the  Third  Gospel  describes  his  procedure  as  that  of 
the  ordinary  historian  (Luke  i.  1-4,  and  cf.  Acts  i.  1) ;  the 
passage  at  the  end  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  (John  xxi.  24),  which 
speaks  of  the  writer  and  his  composition,  says  nothing  of  di- 
vine guidance.  Paul  affirms  that  he  received  directly  through 
revelation  of  Jesus  Christ  tlie  gospel  which  he  preached 
(Gal.  i.  12 ;  1  Cor.  i.  23) ;  but  he  does  not  claim  supernatural 
guidance  in  the  penning  of  his  epistles,  and  as  a  rule  relies 
for  his  effect  on  the  appeal  to  the  Old  Testament,  or  to  the 
religious  consciousness  or  the  common-sense  of  his  readers. 
In  one  passage  (1  Cor.  vii.  25)  he  declares  that  on  a  mooted 
point  he  gives  his  judgment  as  one  who  has  obtained  mercy 
of  the  Lord  to  be  faithful ;  that  is,  as  a  pious  man  using  his 
common-sense  in  a  question  pertaining  to  the  conduct  of 
life.  In  none  of  the  other  epistles  is  there  indication  of  con- 
sciousness that  the  writer  is  under  divine  direction,  except 
that  he  believes  himself  to  be  expounding  the  truth  as  it 
was  revealed  through  Jesus  Christ.  All,  conscious  of  the 
possession  of  truth,  write  out  of  the  fulness  of  the  heart,  as 
men  write  to  friends,  to  counsel  or  comfort  them."  In  what 
concerns  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  gospel  they  ad- 
mit no  deviations  from  their  teaching,  but  on  other  points  they 
ask  only  for  the  respect  due  to  persons  of  age  and  experience. 
They  speak  as  witnesses  to  a  divine  historical  fact,  rather 
tlian  as  formulators  of  a  dogma.  The  consideration  accorded 
to  their  words  was  sometimes  dependent  on  local  circum- 
stances. A  strong  party  in  Corinth  showed  antagonism  to 
Paul,  admiring  liis  letters  as  weighty,  but  declining  to  obey  his 
commands  and  suggestions  (2  Cor.  x.  10,  11 ;  xi.  12 ;  xii,  20,  21 ; 
xiii.  2, 3).  The  Apocalypse  is  in  tlie  form  of  vision,a  direct  reve- 
lation, as  is  the  case  with  all  apocalypses  ;  and  it  is  precisely 
in  these  books  that  the  elaborate  literary  form  makes  the  hy- 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  131 

pothesis  of  vision,  except  in  a  very  general  sense,  impossible. 
It  is  clear  that  Ezekiel,  Zechariah,  Daniel,  the  Sibyl,  Enoch, 
and  the  author  or  authors  of  the  New  Testament  Apocalypse 
worked  up  their  material  with  the  greatest  care,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  enforcing  a  duty  or  a  doctrine,  or  guiding  and  inspir- 
ing their  people  in  times  of  doubt  and  suffering.  The  author 
or  final  editor  of  the  Apocalypse  appends  to  his  book  an  im- 
precation on  the  man  who  shall  add  to  or  take  from  its  con- 
tents, from  which  we  may  infer  that  he  wished  them  to  be 
regarded  as  divinely  imparted  and  authoritative;  this  is 
perhaps  a  feeling  peculiar  to  the  last  Christian  redactor  of 
the  work.  Christianity  was  in  process  of  organization.  The 
first  century  felt  the  throb  of  a  great,  uplifting  religious  idea ; 
the  apostles  and  other  church-leaders  were  conscious  (more 
deeply  and  persistently  than  Philo)  of  the  impulse  of  a  divine 
inspiration,  which  they  believed  was  to  change  the  current 
of  the  world's  religious  life.  But  as  yet  the  line  of  inspira- 
tion was  not  sharply  drawn ;  there  were  many  teachers,  and 
they  were  not  always  at  one  among  themselves;  their  au- 
thority depended  largely  on  their  personal  influence ;  there 
was  no  collection  of  Christian  sacred  books.  It  was  reserved 
for  later  generations  to  sift  the  material,  gradually  to  make 
a  canonical  collection  of  Christian  writings,  and  to  invest 
it  with  absolute  authority  in  matters  of  faith  and  conduct. 

As  to  the  attitude  of  the  New  Testament  writers  to- 
ward the  Old  Testament,  it  has  already  been  remarked 
that  they  accept  it  in  general  as  authoritative,  without 
distinct  definition  of  the  character  and  extent  of  its 
inspiration.  As  Jews  they  had  been  trained  from  in- 
fancy to  regard  it  as  the  word  given  from  God  to  Israel, 
handed  down  from  the  fathers  through  the  generations. 
There  was  no  reason  why  a  Jew  should  question  the  valid- 
ity of  this  transmission.  There  was  no  critical  discus- 
sion.    The  Talmud  decides  on  date  and  authorship  of  Old 


132  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

Testament  books  in  the  most  mechanical  way.  Moses  was 
held  to  have  written  the  Pentateuch  and  Job,  and  Joshua  the 
book  that  bears  his  name ;  Judges,  Samuel,  and  Kuth  were 
ascribed  to  Samuel,  and  Kings  to  Jeremiah ;  Chronicles,  Ezra, 
and  Neheraiah  were  referred  to  Ezra,  and  Esther  to  the  Great 
Synagogue ;  the  prophets  and  Daniel  were  held  to  have  been 
written  by  the  men  whose  names  they  bear ;  Solomon  was 
regarded  as  the  author  of  Proverbs,  Ecclesiastes,  and  the 
Song  of  Songs ;  in  the  Psalter,  the  titles  of  the  psalms  were 
regarded  as  authoritative,  and  certain  untitled  psalms  were 
provided  with  authors,  none  of  whom  were  later  than  David.^ 
The  critical-historical  method  of  investigation  did  not  exist. 
It  would  no  more  have  occurred  to  a  Jew  of  that  time  to 
doubt  the  Mosaic  authorsliip  of  the  Pentateuch  than  to  call 
in  question  the  generally  accepted  opinion  that  the  sun 
moved  around  the  earth.  We  have  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  the  Jews  of  the  first  century  of  our  era  knew  any 
better  than  we  why  any  particular  psalm,  as  the  68th  or  the 
110th,  was  ascribed  to  David  ;  they  knew  only  that  it  so  stood 
in  the  titles.  It  probably  occurred  to  no  one  that  the  book 
of  Isaiah  was  a  collection  of  writings  by  different  men. 
There  was  little  or  no  curiosity  on  such  points,  and  so  far 
as  it  existed,  it  was  easily  satisfied  by  such  simple  solutions 
as  we  find  in  the  Talmud.  The  New  Testament  shares  the 
traditional  opinion  of  the  time  on  these  points. 

If  we  go  back  some  time  to  the  period  when  the  Old 
Testament  books  were  edited  and  collected,  it  is  not  impos- 
sible to  understand  the  methods  by  which  they  were  assigned 
to  certain  authors.  It  is  tolerably  clear  how  Moses  came  to 
be  regarded  as  the  composer  of  the  Pentateuch ;  he  was  the 


1  See  L.  Wogue,  "  Ilistoire  de  la  Bible,"  Taris,  1881,  pp.  15  ff.  The  psalm- 
authors  besides  David  (who  is  held  to  have  written  the  greater  part  of  the 
Psalter)  are  stated  to  be:  Adam,  Melkisedek,  Abraham,  Moses,  Ilemau, 
Jeduthun,  Asaph,  and  the  three  sons  of  Korah. 


THE   DOCTKINE   OF   GOD.  133 

heroic  figure  of  the  formative  period  of  the  nation,  and  the 
natural  traditional  author  of  its  legislation  and  primitive 
history .1  But,  it  may  be  asked,  supposing  the  ritual  to  have 
grown  up  after  the  exile,  how  could  the  men  who  developed 
it  ascribe  it  to  Moses  ?  The  answer  is,  first,  that  in  an  un- 
critical age  a  generation  or  two  of  use  would  suffice  to  create 
the  opinion  that  a  usage  had  existed  from  time  imme- 
morial; and  further,  when  a  book  had  been  written,  the 
scribes  of  that  day  felt  no  hesitation  in  making  additions 
to  it,  —  they  were  innocent  of  suspicion  that  they  were  en- 
croaching on  the  integrity  of  the  book  or  the  rights  of  the 
author,  and  their  additions  were  accepted  without  question 
by  an  uncritical  public  as  parts  of  the  original  work.  In 
this  way,  from  a  small  body  of  tradition,  believed  to  go  back 
to  Moses,  might  arise  in  process  of  time  a  great  mass  of  law ; 
and  there  is  no  need  to  suppose  deliberate  deception,  —  it  was 
a  process  of  traditional  expansion,  in  which  the  successive 
accretions  might  not  unnaturally  be  regarded  as  belonging 
to  the  original  legislation. ^  We  can  also  see  how  the  titles 
of  the  prophetic  books  arose.  The  prophets  lived  in  com- 
paratively late  times,  after  the  beginning  of  the  literary 
period;  manuscripts  of  their  writings  and  traditions  of  au- 
thors' names  might  be  handed  down  from  the  regal  period 
and  the  exile  to  the  fourth  or  third  century ;  to  such  a  tra- 
dition a  certain  historical  value  has  to  be  allowed,  —  we  may 
feel  tolerably  sure  that  we  have  writings  of  Amos,  Hosea, 
Isaiah,  and  the  other  prophets,  down  to  Malachi,  Joel,  and 
the  second  Zechariah.     It  does  not  follow  that  we  have  all 

1  Compare  above,  pp.  70,  71. 

2  Ezekiel,  it  is  true,  says  nothing  of  Moses  (Ezek.  xl.-xlviii.),  but  derives 
his  legislation  from  an  immediate  divine  revelation.  But  the  orderly  devel- 
opment of  the  Deuteronomic  code  may  have  gone  on  during  and  after  the 
exile  in  the  way  above  described ;  and  it  is  to  be  noted  that  Ezekiel's  scheme 
is  not  incorporated  into  the  Pentateuch.  The  possibility  of  deliberate  decep- 
tion iuthe  unknown  framers  of  the  Levitical  Code  may  be  admitted,  but  it 
does  not  seem  to  be  necessary. 


134  THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD. 

of  their  writings,  or  that  all  the  material  that  we  have  he- 
longs  to  the  men  whose  names  are  attached  to  the  books. 
The  freedom  which  the  scribes  of  those  days  allowed  them- 
selves was  great.  The  preciousness  of  parchment  led  to  the 
custom  of  writing  the  compositions  of  different  authors  on 
the  same  roll ;  the  best  example  of  this  composite  character 
of  a  manuscript  is  found  in  our  book  of  Isaiah,  wliich,  start- 
ing with  the  discourses  of  the  prophet  of  Hezekiah's  time, 
has  appropriated  material  from  the  seventh  century,  the 
exile,  and  the  early  post-exilian  time ;  handed  down  through 
the  generations,  it  was  accepted  as  wholly  the  work  of  the 
son  of  Amos.  The  same  sort  of  growth  is  visible  in  our 
books  of  Micah  and  Zechariah.  The  book  of  Jonah,  a  late 
religious  apologue,  was  placed  among  the  prophetic  writ- 
ings because  it  bore  the  name  of  a  prophetic  man,  said  in 
the  book  of  Kings  (2  Kings  xiv.  25)  to  have  lived  in  the 
days  of  Jeroboam  the  Second  (toward  the  middle  of  tlie 
eighth  century  B.C.);  the  author  made  the  ancient  seer 
the  hero  of  his  work,  possibly  on  the  basis  of  a  tradition 
(for  in  Jeroboam's  time  the  Assyrians  and  the  Israelites  had 
known  each  other  for  a  century),  but  chiefly  to  give  dignity 
and  authority  to  his  religious  lesson,  and  probably  uncon- 
scious of  literary  and  historical  sin  in  ascribing  to  this  old 
prophet  the  ideas  of  a  much  later  time.  The  historical  books 
of  the  Second  Canon  —  Joshua,  Judges,  Samuel,  Kings  — 
bear  no  authors'  names;  they  were  gradually  compiled  from 
traditions  and  written  documents,  and  received  their  final 
shape  from  editors  (during  the  exile  and  later)  who  did  not 
feel  their  share  in  the  work  to  be  of  sufficient  importance  to 
call  for  the  mention  of  their  names.  It  does  not  appear  that 
the  pre-Christian  Jews  felt  it  necessary  to  know  the  authors 
by  name. ;  the  Inter  rabbis,  with  greater  literary  and  religious 
but  quite  uncritical  curiosity,  sought  the  authors  of  these 
books  in  prominent  men  who  were  supposed  to  be  contem- 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  135 

poraneous  with  the  last  events  described  in  them.  Of  the 
books  of  the  Third  Canon,  Job,  Lamentations,  Daniel,  Esther, 
Chronicles,  Ezra,  Nehemiah,  are  anonymous.  Job,  from  its 
appearance  of  •antiquity,  was  naturally  referred  to  Moses. 
Chronicles,  Ezra,  and  Nehemiah  were  with  equal  naturalness 
assigned  to  the  eminent  man  who  played  so  prominent  a  part 
in  the  establishment  of  the  law.  To  the  Great  Synagogue  ^ 
or  to  Mordecai  was  given  the  book  of  Esther,  while  Kuth,  by 
its  subject-matter,  went  with  the  earlier  historical  works. 
The  Lamentations  over  the  fall  of  Jerusalem  suggested  the 
sad  prophet,  Jeremiah ;  and  no  other  than  Daniel  could  be 
thought  of  as  the  writer  of  the  book  which  bears  his  name. 
As  early  as  the  exile,  perhaps  earlier,  the  tradition  had  made 
Solomon  the  ideal  of  intellectual  greatness,  not  the  religious 
wisdom  of  the  later  conception,  but  knowledge  of  men  and 
things  (1  Kings  iv.  29-34,  Heb.  v.  9-14).  There  existed  col- 
lections of  apothegms  ascribed  to  him  (Prov.  xxv.  1) ;  these 
were  gradually  added  to  down  to  a  late  period,  and  the  whole 
of  the  resulting  book  of  Proverbs  was  looked  on  as  his  work. 
It  was  natural  also  for  the  author  of  Ecclesiastes  to  select 
the  wise  king  as  the  expounder  of  his  philosophy  of  life ;  it 
is  less  clear  how  his  name  came  to  be  attached  to  the  Song 
of  Songs  unless  it  be  merely  from  the  statement  in  1  Kings 
V.  32,  that  his  songs  were  a  thousand  and  five ;  in  both  these 
cases  the  writer's  ascription  of  his  own  production  to  the 
ancient  king  was  made  possible  by  the  unscientific  feeling 
of  the  times  to  which  reference  has  already  been  made.  The 
designation  of  the  writers  of  the  psalms  was  determined  by 
similar  considerations.     The  tradition  pointed  to  David  as 

1  The  Great  Synagogue,  that  National  Academy  of  the  Tora  which  Jewish 
tradition  created  for  the  time  of  Ezra,  is  not  mentioned  in  any  work  earlier 
than  the  Talmud,  is  foreign  to  the  spirit  of  the  fifth  century  b.  c,  and  must 
be  regarded  as  an  attempt  of  later  Jewish  thought  to  bestow  a  consecrating 
antiquitv  on  that  official  interpretation  of  the  Law  which  was  believed  to  be 
the  breath  of  the  national  life. 


136  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  GOD. 

the  writer  of  religious  odes ;  in  the  eighth  century  he  was 
thought  of  as  the  inventor  of  instruments  of  music  (Amos 
vi.  5),  and  he  was  speedily  idealized  into  the  sweet  singer 
of  Israel.  From  time  to  time  collections  of  hymns  were 
formed  bearing  his  name ;  an  allusion  was  found  to  some 
fact  in  his  history,  or,  as  in  the  case  of  Ecclesiastes,  a  writer 
would  seek  to  give  dignity  to  his  production  by  ascribing  it 
to  the  ancient  and  famous  king.  Other  psalms,  composed  by 
Levitical  singers,  were  referred,  probably  on  the  basis  of  a 
good  tradition,  to  a  late  organization  known  as  the  sons 
of  Korah,  or,  without  authority,  to  supposed  ancestors  of 
similar  organizations,  as  Asaph,  Heman,  and  Ethan ;  the 
majestic  ninetieth  psalm  was  ascribed  to  the  revered  law- 
giver, of  whose  wisdom  it  was  doubtless  felt  to  be  a  worthy 
monument.  These  were  doubtless  the  opinions  as  to  date 
and  authorship  of  Old  Testament  books  held  by  Jews  and 
Christians  in  the  first  century  of  our  era. 

The  use  made  of  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures  by  the  New 
Testament  writers  is  such  as  might  be  anticipated  from  the 
state  of  opinion  just  described.  On  the  one  hand,  the  na- 
tional sacred  writings  are  treated  as  authoritative;  on  the 
other  hand,  on  account  of  the  absence  of  historical-exegetical 
feeling,  the  greatest  liberty  was  assumed  in  the  interpretation 
and  application  of  Scriptural  passages.  Small  regard  was 
paid  to  context.  "Words  were  made  to  mean  anything  which 
they  might  suggest.  Quotations  were  taken,  not  from  the 
Hebrew,  but  from  the  Septuagint,  or  from  a  current  Aramaic 
version ;  the  Hebrew  language  had  long  since  ceased  to  be 
the  spoken  tongue  of  the  nation,  and  had  been  replaced  in 
Palestine  by  Aramaic,  in  Egypt  by  Greek,  and  elsewhere  by 
Greek  or  Latin.  The  feeling  which  we  find  afterward  so 
definite  in  the  Talmud,  that  the  separate  words  of  Scripture 
had  an  independent,  objective  force,  was  already  in  existence. 
The  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  for  example  (ii.  V)),  illustrates 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  137 

the  oneness  of  Jesus  and  his  people  from  Isa.  viii.  18,  taking 
a  clause  out  of  its  connection  (herein  following  the  punctua- 
tion of  the  Greek),  and  entirely  changing  the  sense  of  the 
original.  The  prophet  had  said :  "  Behold,  I  and  the  chil- 
dren whom  Yahwe  has  given  me  [who  had  symbolical  names 
pointing  to  the  fortunes  of  the  nation]  are  for  signs  and  for 
wonders  in  Israel ; "  the  epistle  quotes :  "  Behold,  I  and  the 
children  whom  God  has  given  me,"  and  makes  the  Messiah 
the  speaker,  and  the  "  children  "  those  who  believe  on  him. 
The  central  motive  of  the  New  Testament  quotations  is  the 
kingdom  of  God  set  up  by  Jesus  Christ,  —  the  good  news  of 
salvation  to  the  world.  This  grand  and  inspiring  idea  filled 
and  controlled  the  Christian  consciousness  of  that  day.  In 
the  fulness  of  time,  it  was  held,  God  had  visited  his  people 
and  performed  the  promises  made  to  the  fathers.  It  could 
not  but  be  that  the  prophets,  the  Psalmist,  and  Moses  in  the 
Law  had  looked  forward  to  and  spoken  of  this  wondrous 
event.  For  most  Jews  of  that  time  there  was  no  literature 
but  the  Old  Testament,  and  it  was  more  than  a  body  of  an- 
cient literature,  —  for  them  it  comprehended  all  truth.  The 
Talmud  finds  in  it  everywhere  allusions  to  the  current  events 
of  the  Talmudic  period.  The  Christian  reader  of  the  first 
century,  aglow  with  the  inspiration  of  God's  latest  manifes- 
tation of  himself  in  the  gospel,  could  not  fail  to  find  the 
evangelical  history,  the  history  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
in  the  words  of  the  ancient  saints.  The  life  of  the  Christ, 
the  doctrines  of  the  new  dispensation,  the  fortunes  of  the 
Church,  would  stand  out  clearly  to  the  Christian  eye  on  the 
pages  of  Scripture  ;  the  old  congregation  of  Israel  was  felt 
to  be  a  preparation  for  and  a  prediction  of  the  new  congre- 
gation of  Christ ;  the  chief  interest  for  the  Christian  lay  in 
the  discovery  of  references  to  the  gospel  times,  and  in  a 
thousand  Old  Testament  passages  he  might  find  prophecies 
and  illustrations  of  what  was  going  on  around  him.     There 


138  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  GOD. 

is,  however,  a  difference  in  different  New  Testament  books 
and  persons  in  respect  to  simplicity  and  naturalness  of  citation. 
The  quotations  made  by  Jesus  himself  are  almost  exclusively 
of  ethical  or  general  religious  import,  and  bear  their  validity 
on  their  face.  The  same  thing  may  be  said  of  the  Catholic 
and  the  Pastoral  epistles.  The  Apocalypse  has  few  direct 
citations,  but  a  large  mass  of  Old  Testament  material  (to- 
gether with  much  from  Enoch)  interwoven  into  its  text  in 
a  free  manner.  The  predictions  of  the  life  of  Christ  given 
by  the  evangelists  themselves  are  also  marked  by  uncritical 
freedom,  but  are  confined  to  passages  whose  wording  natu- 
rally suggests  a  prediction  of  the  actual  experiences  of  Jesus. 
Paul's  method  of  procedure  betrays  his  rabbinical  training ; 
he  not  only  gives  to  general  Old  Testament  expressions  the 
technical  senses  of  his  own  theology,  but  he  allegorizes  inci- 
dents and  words  into  meanings  remote  from  their  original 
intention.  Hagar  and  Sara  he  represents  as  signifying  re- 
spectively the  old  Israel  held  in  the  bondage  of  the  covenant 
of  Sinai  and  the  Church  of  Christ  freed  from  the  bondage  of 
the  law.  In  his  discussion  of  the  glossolaly  (1  Cor.  xiv.), 
wishing  to  prove  the  superiority  of  prophecy  over  the  speak- 
ing with  tongues,  he  declares  that  the  former  benefits  those 
who  believe,  while  the  latter  is  serviceable  to  those  only  who 
do  not  believe;  this  he  proves  from  Isa.  xxviii.  11:  "  I'y 
men  of  strange  tongues,  and  by  the  lips  of  strangers  will  I 
speak  to  this  people,"  where  all  that  the  prophet  says  is  that 
Cod  will  teach  the  Israelites  a  lesson  through  the  foreign 
Assyrians.  The  heiglit  of  arbitrary  quotation  is  reached  in 
the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  in  which  the  free  Alexandrian 
method  of  treating  the  Old  Testament  is  visible.  There  aio 
no  bounds  to  the  writer's  ability  to  extract  from  his  Greek 
version  the  sense  which  he  desires  ;  he  goes  so  far  as  to 
find  a  demonstration  of  the  necessity  of  the  sacrifice  of 
Christ  (Heb.  x.  5-10)  in  a  psalm-passage  (Ps.  xl.  G-8)  which 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   GOD.  139 

affirms  tliat  God  desires  not  sacrifice,  but  obedience  to  his 
will. 

But  while  we  are  forced  to  admit  an  uncritical  and  arbi- 
trary element  in  New  Testament  quotations  from  the  Old 
Testament,  we  must  recognize  the  power  of  the  new  spirit 
which  created  this  sort  of  exposition.  The  circumstances  of 
the  time  being  what  they  were,  it  was  a  necessity  that  the 
spirituality  of  the  religion  of  Jesus  should  stamp  itself  on 
the  Jewish  Scriptures.  The  divine  revelation  to  Israel  was 
a  standard  of  faith  for  the  Church  of  the  first  century,  but 
a  new  revelation  had  appeared  in  Christianity,  and  it  was 
essential  that  the  two  should  be  brought  into  harmony.  For 
that  generation  it  was  more  important  that  a  higher  spiritual 
feeling  should  be  impressed  on  the  Old  Testament  than  that 
its  meaning  should  be  investigated  in  a  critical,  historical 
way.  With  us  the  case  is  different ;  the  ideas  of  Christianity 
have  embodied  themselves  in  history,  and  we  can  look 
quietly  at  the  Old  Testament  religion  as  one  step  in  the  de- 
velopment of  Judaism.  It  was  not  so  in  the  first  century. 
Christianity  was  engaged  in  a  struggle  for  life,  and  one  of  its 
most  powerful  weapons  was  the  demonstration  of  its  harmony 
with  the  book  which  contained  God's  revelation  to  Israel  in 
the  olden  time.  This  was  the  instinctive  feeling  which 
prompted  the  scriptural  exegesis  of  the  New  Testament 
writers.  And  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  there  is  a  basis 
of  exegetical  truth  in  their  procedure.  The  Old  Testament 
thought  is  controlled  by  a  true  spiritual  feeling  which  found 
fuller  expression  in  the  more  developed  ideas  of  Christianity. 
From  this  point  of  view  the  mechanical  predictive  element 
is  of  small  importance.  No  OM  Testament  writer  foresaw 
the  times  of  Christianity,  though  many  a  prophet  and  many 
a  psalmist  had  in  his  own  soul  the  germs  of  the  teaching  of 
Jesus.  The  early  Christians  were  conscious  of  this  substan- 
tial identity  between  the  two  revelations.     If  they  carried 


140  THE   DOCTRINE  OF  GOD. 

the  correspondence  of  form  too  far,  seeing  circiunstantial 
agreements  where  none  existed,  this  is  what  is  to  be  expected. 
Christianity,  by  adopting  the  Old  Testament,  established  the 
unity  of  the  whole  Jewish  development,  and  thus  initiated 
a  study  of  the  Scriptures  which  was  destined  after  varied 
exegetical  fortunes  to  lead  to  a  separation  between  the  essen- 
tial and  the  unessential,  and  a  recognition  of  the  real  spiritu- 
ality of  Old  Testament  and  New  Testament  alike. 


CHAPTEK  III. 

SUBORDINATE   SLTERXATURAL  BEINGS. 

WE  have  now  to  inquire  into  the  Jewish  doctrine  of 
supernatural  intelligences  inferior  to  the  divine  being. 
Beginning  with  the  Old  Testament,  we  must  then  ask  whether 
the  doctrine  received  accretions  in  the  post-biblical  period, 
and  in  what  form  it  is  found  in  the  New  Testament. 

1.  It  will  suffice  merely  to  mention  the  survivals  from  early 
animistic  beliefs  which  occur  in  the  Old  Testament,  but  do 
not  maintain  themselves  in  the  later  religious  development. 
That  oldest  system  of  thought,  according  to  which  every 
object  of  nature,  animate  or  inanimate,  was  inhabited  by 
a  spirit,  seems  to  have  vanished.  We  cannot,  indeed,  be 
sure  on  this  point,  —  our  existing  Hebrew  literature  has 
been  carefully  worked  over  by  monotheistic  writers,  who 
have  probably  omitted  or  transformed  many  of  the  lower 
popular  beliefs.  Such  beliefs,  as  we  know  from  the  history 
of  other  peoples,  often  survive  a  long  time  even  in  the  pres- 
ence of  higher  culture.  Yet,  judging  from  the  few  hints 
given  in  the  Old  Testament,  it  seems  probable  that  the 
Hebrews,  as  early  as  the  fourteenth  century  b.  c,  had  already 
left  behind  them,  or  greatly  modified,  the  old  vague  fetish- 
ism of  which  traces  appear  only  in  a  few  objects  of  popular 
worship.^  Among  these  the  teraphim  may  perhaps  be  in- 
cluded,—  household  protecting  spirits,  possibly  a  developed 

1  On  remains  of  totemism  in  the  Hebrew  folk-religion  see  J.  G.  Frazer, 
"  Totemism,"  Edinburgh,  1887  ;  W.  R.  Smith, "  The  Religion  of  the  Semites," 
London  and  New  York,  1889. 


142  SUBORDINATE   SUPERXATURAL  BEINGS. 

survival  of  the  primitive  divine  tree  or  stone  or  animal.^ 
More  definite  instances  of  demons  ^  are  found  in  the  sa'ir  and 
lilit  of  Isa.  xxxiv.  14;  these  creatures  (called  "satyr,"  or 
"  he  goat,"  and  "  night-monster,"  in  the  Eevised  English  Ver- 
sion) seem,  like  the  Arabian  jinn,  to  have  been  originally  wild 
animals,  thought  of  as  hostile  to  man.  They  were  probably 
Canaanitish  objects  of  worship  (Lev.  xvii.  7) ;  whether  they 
belonged  to  the  original  Hebrew  system,  or  were  adopted  by 
the  Hebrews  from  their  neighbors,  it  is  hard  to  say.^ 

Magic  art,  of  which  traces  appear  in  the  Old  Testament, 
was  no  doubt  originally  connected  with  demon-worship  ;  that 
is  to  say,  it  issues  out  of  that  primitive  stratum  of  thought 
in  which  it  was  believed  that  man  could  coerce  the  extra- 
human  supernatural  powers.  This  has  proved  itself  to  be 
one  of  the  most  obstinate  and  persistent  of  man's  primitive 
beliefs ;  it  maintained  its  place  down  to  the  New  Testa- 
ment times  (with  ever-changing  forms) ;  it  appears  in  the 
Talmud,  and  exists  to-day  all  over  the  world.  It  is  founded 
on  a  vague  idea  that  the  supernatural  is  somehow  under  the 
control  of  law,  and  that  unlimited  power  and  happiness  be- 
long to  him  who  can  discover  this  law.  It  is  a  curious 
example  of  the  survival,  in  a  period  of  high  culture,  of  the 
crude  faith  of  primitive  savagery.'* 

1  General  analogy  would  suggest  a  totemistic  origin  for  tlic  tcrapliim, 
tliongh  in  the  Old  Testament  they  have  probably  passed  beyond  the  primitive 
form  and  seem  sometimes  to  have  been  human  in  shape  (1  Sam.  xix.  13) ;  in 
any  case  we  must  suppose  that  they  represent  tlie  old  family-cult.  * 

2  The  word  "  demon  "  is  here  used  not  in  the  later  sense  of  "  malignant 
si)irit,"  but  in  tlie  signification  (to  wliicli  the  etymology  points)  of  a  supernat- 
ural being  who  has  not  been  raised  to  tlie  rank  of  a  tribal  or  national  god. 

8  For  the  Babylonian  demon  lilit,  cf .  Lenormant,  "  La  Magie  chez  les 
Chalduens,"  and  for  the  use  of  the  term  in  the  Talmud,  see  Weber,  "  System 
der  pal.  Theol.,"  p.  246.  The  term  shedim  is  employed  in  the  Old  Testament 
of  foreign  deities  only  (Deut.  xxxii.  17,  Ps.  cxxxvi.  .37) ;  in  Babylonian  it  sig- 
nifies "  bull-deity,"  and  seems  therefore  not  to  express  a  class  of  demons. 

*  Necromancy  is  a  well-defined  fact  in  tlie  Old  Testament,  and  was  doubt- 
less emph)yed  abundantly  by  the  Hebrews  (Isa.  viii.  19).    Tlie  demon  of  necro- 


SUBORDINATE   SUPERNATUEAL  BEINGS.  143 

The  demon-figure  of  the  Old  Testament  which  is  most 
clearly  defined,  and  which  made  the  most  serious  effort  to 
maintain  itself  in  the  national  thought  is  Azazel  (Lev.  xvL). 
In  the  solemn  rite  of  the  day  of  atonement  he  appears  as  a 
wilderness-power  to  whom  pertains  the  domain  of  evil ;  the 
world  is,  as  it  were,  divided  between  Yahwe  and  Azazel.  So 
distinct  is  the  personality  and  so  great  the  power  of  the 
demon  that  some  have  thought  of  identifying  him  with 
Satan.  But  though  the  two  personages  are  in  some  regards 
identical,  their  historical  developments  are  so  different  that 
they  must  be  treated  as  separate  conceptions.  Of  the  early 
history  of  Azazel  we  know  nothing ;  he  makes  an  abrupt 
appearance  in  a  late  post-exilian  document  and  is  never 
mentioned  elsewhere  in  the  Old  Testament ;  he  plays  a  great 
role  in  the  book  of  Enoch  (viii.  ix.),  where  he  is  the  leader 
of  the  evil  spirits,  and  is  condemned  to  imprisonment  till 
the  day  of  judgment,  v,dien  he  is  to  be  cast  into  the  fire  (x.). 
Here  certainly  he  seems  to  play  the  part  of  Satan ;  yet  in 
the  succeeding  literature  it  is  Satan  that  keeps  the  first  place, 
and  Azazel  practically  vanishes.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  in 
Leviticus  he  is  spoken  of  as  a  well-known  person ;  he  is  a 
wilderness-demon,  somehow  connected  with  the  goat.  It 
seems  a  natural  inference  that  he  was  originally  a  satyr-like 
or  goat-like  figure,  —  a  hostile  desert-power  to  be  placated  by 
an  offering,  and  by  some  means  singled  out  from  the  mass  of 
demons  and  elevated  to  a  controlling  position.  The  similarity 
between  his  r  jle  and  that  of  the  Persian  Ahriman  is  obvious  ; 
and  it  is  not  impossible  that  this  isolation  of  Azazel  was 
due  to  an  impulse  derived  from  Persian  thought.     Satan  and 

maiitic  art  is  called  ob  (1  Sam.  xxviii.,  laa.  xxix.  4,  cf.  Lsa.  viii.  19),  a  word  of 
uncertain  origin.  Of  ancestor-worship  there  is  no  direct  trace ;  tlie  teraphim, 
as  household  deities,  may  point  to  such  a  cult  through  a  fusion  of  totems  and 
human  ancestors.  The  plural  form  of  the  word  may  refer  to  the  mass  of 
tereph-objects  in  a  family  or  clan.  Jer.  ii.  26,  27,  deals  with  a  late  form 
of  idolatry. 


144  SUBORDINATE   SUPERNATURAL  BEINGS 

Azazel  may  be  looked  on  as  rivals ;  of  the  contest  bet\yeen 
them  we  do  not  know  the  details.  It  appears  only  that 
victory  fell  to  the  former  on  probable  general  grounds  which 
will  be  pointed  out  below.  That  the  Azazel-cult  had  no 
little  hold  on  the  popular  feeling  is  evident  from  the  fact 
that  it  was  incorporated  into  the  advanced  Levitical  ritual.^ 

2.  Alongside  of  these  demon-forms  w^e  find  a  more  ad- 
vanced conception  in  the  host  of  spirits  who  are  represented 
as  forming  Yahwe's  heavenly  court.  The  fullest  and  most 
striking  description  of  this  court  is  given  in  the  story  of  Ahab 
and  ]\licuah  (1  Kings  xxii.  19-23)  :  "  I  saw  Yahwe  sitting  on 
his  throne  and  all  the  host  of  heaven  standing  by  him  on 
his  right  hand  and  on  his  left.  And  Yahwe  said,  Who  will 
entice  Ahab  that  he  may  go  up  and  fall  at  Eamoth-Gilead  ? 
And  one  said  one  thhig,  and  another  another,  and  there  came 
forward  a  spirit,-  and  stood  before  Yahwe  and  said,  I  will 
entice  him.  And  Yahwe  said.  How  ?  and  he  said,  I  v/ill  go 
forth  and  will  be  a  lying  spirit  in  the  mouth  of  all  his 
prophets.  And  he  said.  Thou  shalt  entice  him,  and  also 
thou  shalt  succeed  ;  go  forth  and  do  so."  Here  we  have  an 
apparently  homogeneous  mass  of  spirits  without  distinction 
of  grade  and  authority ;  the  whole  body  forms  a  sort  of 
council,  whose  advice  on  this  important  occasion  is  asked 
by  Yahwe.  There  is  no  question  of  right  or  wrong;  the 
spirit  of  falsehood  is  the  agent  of  Yahwe  acting  by  his  direc- 
tion and  assured  of  his  support.  The  prophet  Micaiah,  wish- 
'ing  to  account  for  the  predictions  of  Ahab's  proi)hets,  thinks 


1  Azazel  seems  to  be  a  Hebrew  word,  possibly  connected  with  the  stem 
azaz,  "  strong  ;  "  the  significations  "  he  from  whom  one  withdra\ys,"  or  "  lie 
who  withdraws  himself  [from  God]  "  (from  azal)  do  not  accord  so  well  witii 
the  probably  ])rimitive  character  of  the  demon-figure.  But  the  origin  of  the 
idea  and  the  name  is  uncertain. 

2  Literally,  "  the  spirit ;  "  namely,  the  one  who  had  just  manifested  himself 
in  Ahab's  prophets,  —  not  the  spirit  of  prophecy  in  general,  but  the  inspirer  of 
this  special  j)rudiction. 


SUBORDINATE   SUPERNATURAL  BEINGS.  145 

it  necessary  to  ascribe  them  to  a  direct  influence  from  God. 
Other  examples  are  found  in  the  evil  spirit  which,  sent  by 
God,  broke  up  the  friendly  relations  between  Abimelech  and 
the  Shechemites  (Judg.  ix.  23),  and  the  evil  spirit  from 
Yahwe  (or  from  God),  which  disturbed  the  soul  of  Saul 
(1  Sam.  xvi.  14-23).! 

These  spirits  doubtless  issue  out  of  old  animistic  material. 
The  peculiarity  of  the  conception  is  that  the  spirit-being  is 
completely  isolated  from  the  object  to  which  it  was  attached 
in  primitive  times.  The  sa'ir  (and  perhaps  also  Azazel) 
seems  to  have  been  thought  of  as  possessing  an  animal  form, 
as  was  probably  the  case  in  earliest  times  with  most  spirits. 
It  was,  however,  a  primitive  belief  that  the  soul  or  spirit 
could  detach  itself  from  the  body  in  which  it  resided,  and  go 
its  independent  way.  We  may  suppose  that  the  progress  of 
reflection  gradually  led  men  to  isolate  the  spirit  from  its 
bodily  connections,  and  this  is  a  great  advance  in  the  organ- 
ization of  the  supernatural  world.  In  the  Old  Testament, 
further,  the  spirits  appear  as  completely  subordinated  to  the 
supreme  God,  and  this  monotheistic  constitution  points  to  a 
comparatively  late  period  in  religious  development .^  From 
the  non-appearance  of  this  body  of  spirits  in  the  prophetic 
writings  it  may  be  inferred,  indeed,  that  they  belonged  rather 
to  the  popular  than  to  the  prophetical  religious  scheme  ;  still, 
however  this  may  be,  and  whatever  may  have  been  the 
looser  popular  ideas  on  the  subject,  the  actual  spirit-system 
of  the  Old  Testament  is  cast  in  a  monotheistic  mould. 

1  Cf.  also  Job  iv.  15,  where  in  a  night-vision  the  announcement  of  a  great 
religious  truth  is  ascribed  to  a  "  spirit,"  for  so  apparently  we  must  render  the 
Hebrew,  and  not  "  wind,"  or  "  breath." 

2  Yet  here  also  we  find  traces  of  magic,  in  the  exorcism,  for  example,  of 
Saul's  evil  spirit  by  David's  music  (1  Sam.  xvi.  23),  and  in  the  musical  invoca- 
tion of  Elisha's  spirit  of  prophecy  (2  Kings  iii.  15).  This  survival  of  the  old 
idea  seems  not  to  have  interfered  with  the  practical  supremacy  of  Yahwe. 
At  the  present  day  there  is  found  in  the  Christian  world  a  similar  combina- 
tion of  belief  in  God  and  reliance  on  magic. 

10 


146  SUBORDINATE   SUPERNATURAL  BEINGS. 

The  subordination  to  the  supreme  God  is  complete, — 
there  is  no  independence  of  action  in  the  spirits.  Nor  is 
there  so  far  as  appears,  any  differentiation  of  moral  character 
among  the  members  of  the  body.  All  dwell  in  the  presence 
of  Yahwe,  are  his  servants,  carry  out  his  commands  whether 
for  o'ood  or  for  evil.  If  the  epithet  "  evil "  is  applied  to  one 
of  them,  it  is  rather  from  the  nature  of  the  work  assigned 
him  than  from  his  moral  character.  They  thus  represent 
a  stadium  in  religious  development  in  which  a  substantially 
unitary  conception  of  the  world  has  been  reached,  but  the 
demand  for  separation  between  good  and  evil  moral  super- 
natural agencies  has  not  yet  shown  itself.     God  is  absolutely 

all, the  creator  of  light  and  darkness,  peace  and  evil  (Isa. 

xlv.  7).  There  came  a  time  when  the  Israelitish  ethical 
feelinf  was  offended  by  the  imputation  of  moral  evil  to  God ; 
but  apparently  down  to  and  during  the  exile  the  best  think- 
ers of  the  nation  were  satisfied  with  the  acknowledgment  of 
his  supreme  control  of  all  things.  The  sharp  struggle  to  es- 
tablish the  monotheistic  idea  left  little  time  for  this  sort  of 
ethical  elaboration  of  the  theistic  scheme. 

3.  Still  another  form  of  supernatural  agency  is  found  in 
the  angels.  They  stand  alongside  of  the  spirits,  resembling 
them  in  some  respects,  differing  from  them  in  others ;  no 
attem])t  is  made  in  the  Old  Testament  to  define  the  relations 
between  the  two  classes,  — r  both  are  growtlis  out  of  the  old 
folk-faith,  with  different  starting-points  and  paths  of  develop- 
ment. The  angels  of  the  older  Hebrew  literature  (down  to 
the  second  century  B.  c.)  are  like  the  spirits  in  having  no 
functional  or  etliical  differentiation  among  themselves ;  they 
are  all  ministers  and  messengers  of  God,  executing  his  designs, 
benevolent  or  harmful,  saving  or  destroying  without  respect 
to  circumstance.  They  differ  from  the  spirits  in  the  nature 
of  the  commissions  intrusted  to  them,  appearing  often  in 
bodily  shape,  and  performing  bodily  actions,  such  as  deliver- 


SUBORDINATE   SUPERNATURAL  BEINGS.  147 

ing  messages   to   persons   and  inflicting   plagues,  while  the 
spirits  act  directly  on  the  minds  of  men. 

The  ground  of  this  difference  between  the  two  categories  of 
being  is  to  be  sought  in  their  origins.  Both  doubtless  go 
back  to  the  spiritual  essences  which  were  believed  to  reside 
in  objects  ;  but  the  Old  Testament  spirits  seem  to  be  merely 
the  isolation  of  these  essences,  while  the  angels  appear  to  l)e 
derived  immediately  from  forms  of  old  deities.  For  between 
angels  and  "  sons  of  God  "  or  "  sons  of  the  Elohim  "  in  the 
Old  Testament  there  does  not  seem  to  be  any  difference  of 
nature.  These  last  occur  by  name  on  three  occasions :  they 
intermarry  with  human  beings  and  become  the  fathers  of  old 
heroes  ((leu.  vi.  2) ;  they  form  a  heavenly  court,  and  report 
their  procedures  to  Yahwe  (Job  i.  ii ) ;  they  are  present  at 
the  creation  of  the  world  (Job  xxxviii.  7).  It  is  they  also  with 
whom  God  takes  counsel  respecting  the  creation  of  man,  and 
in  whose  image  man  is  created  (Gen.  i.  26) ;  they  are  con- 
sulted by  Yahwe  as  to  the  coercion  of  the  tower-builders 
(Gen.  xi.  7) ;  they  are  the  Elohim-beings  with  whom  man 
is  compared  by  the  Psalmist  (Ps.  viii.  5) ;  with  two  of  them 
(afterward  called  "  angels  "  )  Yahwe  descends  to  earth  to  in- 
quire into  the  alleged  iniquities  of  Sodom  (Gen.  xviii.  19).^ 
They  carry  us  back  to  a  theistic  scheme  in  which  Yahwe 
was  only  the  first  among  a  host  of  equals.  In  time  the  rest 
were  subordinated  to  him,  becoming  in  part  the  inferior 
deities  of  other  nations,  in  part  the  ministers  and  messengers 

1  In  the  form  of  heathen  deities,  Elohim-beings  to  whom  the  nations  have 
been  as.signed  (Dent,  xxxii.  8  in  the  Greek),  they  appear  in  Ps.  Ixxxii.  (v.  1 : 
"  Yahwe  judges  in  the  midst  of  gods  "  [elohim] ;  v.  6  ;  "  I  have  said,  ye  are  gods, 
and  all  of  you  sons  of  Elyon  "  [the  most  High] ),  Ps.  xxix.  1  (where  the  "  sons 
of  gods,"  elim,  are  called  on  to  give  honor  to  Yahwe),  Ps.  Ixxxix.  7  ("sons  of 
gods,"  ehm),  Ps.  xcvii.  7  ("  Do  homage  to  him,  all  gods,"  elohim),  and  perhaps 
Ps.  Iviii.  1  (2),  by  a  slight  change  of  text:  "Do  ye  indeed  utter  justice,  O 
gods  ?  "  This  conception  of  heathen  gods,  which  is  inconsistent  with  mono- 
theism, seems  to  have  maintained  itself  after  the  exile,  but  does  not  impair 
the  practical  supremacy  of  the  God  of  Israel. 


148  SUBORDINATE   SUrERXATUEAL   BEINGS. 

of  Yalnve.  It  is  in  this  latter  character  that  they  are  termed 
"  angels  "  in  the  Old  Testament ;  the  expression  "  sons  of  the 
Elohim  "  (that  is,  members  of  the  Elohim-class)  or  "  sons  of 
God  "  designates  them  in  the  Hebrew  theology  rather  as  the 
attendants  of  the  supreme  deity,  while  the  angels  are  active 
agents,  and  intermediaries  between  God  and  the  world. 
Their  creation  is  nowhere  mentioned;  their  existence  from 
the  beginning  is  assumed. 

The  oldest  angelic  representation  in  the  Old  Testament 
seems  to  be  that  of  a  being  who  is  apparently  charged  with 
the  whole  divine  authority,  and  acts  as  if  he  were  an  inde- 
pendent divinity  (the  angel  of  the  Lord  or  of  God).  Such  is 
the  tone  of  the  being  who  appears  to  Hagar  (Gen.  xvi.  7-13), 
to  Joshua  (Josh.  v.  13),  and  to  Manoah  (Judg.  xiii.  18).  This 
figure  is  perhaps  a  real  survival  of  an  ancient  deity  ;  it  is  thus 
that  an  independent  deity,  transformed  in  a  monotheistic 
faith  into  a  messenger  of  the  supreme  God,  would  act;  and 
it  is  to  be  observed  that  the  title  "angel"  distinctly  and 
completely  differences  such  a  being  from  God  himself, — 
Yahwe  could  never  be  called  his  own  messenger.  In  this  way, 
also,  we  are  to  understand  the  vision  in  Zech.  iii.,  where  the 
titles  "  the  angel  of  Yahwe  "  and  "  Yahwe  "  are  interchanged  ; 
the  divine  authority  resides  in  the  angel,  but  he  is  not  identi- 
cal with  the  divine  being.  Closely  allied  with  this  angelic 
form  are  the  angels  of  the  face  or  presence  (Tsa.  Ixiii.  9,  cf.  Ex. 
xxxiii.  15)  and  of  the  name  (Ex.  xxiii.  21),  who  represent  the 
divine  power  in  a  very  special  way.  From  these  passages  it 
may  be  concluded  that  this  conception  of  special  angelic 
intermediaries  retained  its  hold  on  Jewish  thought  down  to  a 
comparatively  late  period  ;  it  appears  in  an  altered  form  in 
the  book  of  Daniel.  It  arose  from  the  demand  for  an  actual 
divine  presence  among  men,  coupled  with  tlie  feeling  that 
God  could  not  appear  in  person. 

This  representation  of  the  intercourse  between  man  and 


SUBORDINATE   SUPERNATURAL  BEINGS.  149 

God  was,  however,  gradually  modified  by  the  monotheistic 
feeling.  The  increasing  exaltation  of  the  divine  being  tended 
to  reduce  all  subordinate  supernatural  intelligences  to  the 
same  level ;  more  and  more  he  was  withdrawn  into  absolute 
aloneness,  and  all  his  ministers  were  as  one  in  his  sight. 
Some  time  before  the  exile  the  angel  appears  as  a  simple 
messenger  and  agent  of  God ;  so  we  may  probably  understand 
the  horses  and  chariots  which  surrounded  Elisha  (2  Kings 
vi.  17),  and  such  is  the  character  of  the  being  who  acts  as 
interpreter  to  the  prophet  Zechariah  (Zech.  i.  9).  This  is 
the  view  which  became  more  and  more  prominent  in  the 
post-biblical  Judaism,  and  passed  into  the  New  Testament ; 
it  is  found  in  Daniel,' Tobit,  and  Enoch,  and  in  the  Talmud.^ 

At  this  point  we  have  to  notice  an  extraordinary  develop- 
ment of  the  scheme  of  the  angelic  world  which  appears  in 
the  Jewish  literature  a  couple  of  hundred  years  before  the 
beginning  of  our  era.  In  the  body  of  the  Old  Testament  no 
one  of  the  angels  receives  a  special  proper  name,  nor  is  there 
any  definite  gradation  among  them.  In  the  books  of  Tobit, 
Daniel,  and  Enoch,  we  are  suddenly  introduced  to  a  well- 
organized  angelic  society,  the  individuals  of  which  have  their 

1  Weber, "  System  der  pal.  Theol ,"  §§  34,  35,  and  Kohut,  "  Jiidische  Angel- 
ologie  und  Damouologie."  Angelic  appearances  are  rare  in  the  later  historical 
books ;  doubtless  the  apparition  which  struck  down  Heliodorus  (2  Mac.  iii.  24 
ff.)  was  thought  of  as  an  angel.  In  the  Old  Testament  writings  down  to  the 
end  of  the  exile,  angels  occur  almost  exclusively  in  folk-stories.  About  one 
fourth  of  the  occurrences  are  found  in  the  narrative  books  of  the  Pentateuch  : 
(15  in  Gen,  6  in  Ex.,  11  in  Numb.,  of  which  10  are  in  the  Balaam-story)  ; 
Judges  has  nearly  one  fifth  (22,  the  story  of  Manoah,  ch.  xiii.,  containing  10) ; 
Samuel  and  Kings  show  a  somewhat  smaller  number  (14),  and  Chronicles 
nearly  as  many  (10) ;  the  prophets  are  almost  silent  (1  in  Hosea,  and  1  in 
Isaiah).  The  angel  in  pre-exilian  times  thus  seems  to  belong  to  the  popular 
rather  than  to  the  prophetic  religion.  Immediately  after  the  exile  the 
angelic  figure  becomes  very  prominent  in  Zechariah  (20  occurrences),  but 
differs  from  the  earlier  form  somewhat,  in  being  more  intimate  and  confiden- 
tial with  the  prophet.  Later  in  Job  (twice)  and  in  Psalms  (8  times)  the 
conception  of  angelic  agency  is  loftier.  The  word  "angel"  is  found  only 
twice  in  Daniel,  but  angelic  beings  play  a  very  important  part. 


150  SUBORDINATE   SUPERNATURAL  BEINGS. 

own  proper  names  and  exercise  functions  unknown  to  the 
earlier  writings.  In  Tobit,  Eafael  is  the  affable  companion 
and  mentor  of  the  young  Tobias,  occupies  himself  with 
domestic  matters  in  a  genial  human  way,  and  shows  himself 
to  be  a  clever  man  of  affairs.  Two  other  names  appear  in 
Daniel:  Gabriel  is  interpreter  to  the  seer  (Dan.  viii.  16); 
Michael  is  the  guardian  angel  of  Israel  (Dan.  x.  13);  guar- 
dian angels  of  other  nations  are  spoken  of,  but  not  named ; 
mention  is  made  of  holy  "  watchers  "  who  are  sent  down  as 
agents  of  God.  Enoch  details  the  angelic  history  at  great 
length,  with  long  lists  of  names  and  much  specialization  of 
function.  The  question  arises,  How  is  this  great  expansion  of 
the  angelic  scheme  to  be  explained ;  may  it  be  regarded  as  a 
purely  native  development  ?  or  must  a  foreign,  especially  a 
Persian  influence  be  appealed  to  ?  ^  In  the  first  place,  it  is  to 
be  observed  that  the  existence  of  a  Persian  influence  on  the 
Jewish  pneumatology  of  this  time  is  vouched  for  by  the  name 
of  the  evil  spirit  in  Tobit ;  Asmodeus  is  confessedly  the  Per- 
sian Aeshma  daeva.  It  is  also  to  be  noted  that  the  Persians 
probably  had  at  this  time  a  well-developed  system  of  super- 
natural intelligences  which  was  not  borrowed  by  them,  since 
the  greater  part  of  it  can  be  traced  back  to  the  old  Aryan 
material.^  Alongside  of  the  supreme  God,  Ahura-Mazda, 
stood  the  six  Amesha-Qpentas  and  a  host  of  other  deities 
and  spirits  who  were  invested  with  various  functions  in  the 
government  and  maintenance  of  the  world.  A  special  posi- 
tion as  guardians  was  assigned  to  certain  star-deities  (Tistrya 
and  three  others),  who  presided  over  the  four  quarters  of  tlie 
world,  and  to  the  Fravashis,  who,  whatever  their  origin,  were 
char<Ted  with  the  control  of  various  departments  of  hunu  n 

1  See  Kolmt,  "  An£relolosie  und  Diiinonolopjio,"  atid  C.  do  Ilarlcz,  "  Dcs 
Origines  du  Zoroastrismc,"  I'aris,  1879  (originally  appeared  in  the  "Journal 
Asiatique,"  1878). 

2  Spiegel,  "  Erauisclie  Altorlhuniskuude,"  ii. 


SUBORDINATE   SUPERNATURAL  BEINGS.  151 

life.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  Jews  would  prob- 
ably take  such  ideas  from  popular  beliefs  rather  than  from 
books  ;  for  example,  the  character  of  the  Asmodeus  of  Tobit 
does  not  correspond  exactly  with  that  of  the  Aeshma  of  the 
Persian  sacred  books,  and  the  more  natural  explanation  of 
this  difference  is  that  the  popular  mythology  diverged  a  little 
from  the  tlieological  standards,  as  has  been  true  to  a  great 
extent  among  Christian  peoples.  It  is  quite  conceivable  that 
the  Persian  popular  doctrine  of  guardian  spirits  was  fuller 
than  that  of  the  books  (supposing,  as  is  likely,  that  books 
existed  at  this  time),  or  differed  from  it  in  some  details  ;  or 
we  may  suppose  that  the  idea  of  angels  as  guardians  of  par- 
ticular nations  originated  among  the  Jews  under  Persian 
influence.^  Abundant  opportunity  for  borrowing  such  con- 
ceptions was  afforded  by  the  long  residence  of  the  exiles  in 
Babylonia  after  it  became  a  Persian  province.  Ezekiel  and 
his  successors  showed  themselves  quite  ready  to  adopt  certain 
Semitic-Babylonian  ideas,  and  there  was  no  reason  why  there 
should  not  have  been  a  similar  willingness  to  receive  sugges- 
tions from  the  Persians.  The  scenes  of  the  books  of  Esther, 
Tobit,  and  Daniel  lie  in  the  Persian  region.  A  general  in- 
fluence, therefore,  is  not  at  all  improbable.  All  that  need  be 
supposed  is  an  expansion  of  existing  Jewish  ideas  in  the 
direction  of  organization  and  specialization  of  function.  The 
supposition  of  borrowing  is  made  more  probable  by  the  fact 
that  the  angelic  system  in  Daniel  is  not  entirely  in  the  line  of 
the  preceding  Old  Testament  development.  Angels  do  not 
appear  as  national  guardians  in  the  later  post-biblical  books. 
In  the  New  Testament  there  is  one  apparent  reference  to  the 
belief  in  the  angelic  guardianship  of  individuals  (Matt,  xviii. 

^  An  Old  Testament  point  of  attachment  for  this  idea  is  found  in  the 
Greek  text  of  Dent,  xxxii.  8 ;  "  The  Most  Higli  set  the  boundaries  of  the  nations 
according  to  the  number  of  the  angels  of  God,"  or,  as  the  emended  Hebrew 
text  would  read  :  "  The  number  of  the  sons  of  the  Elohim,"  where  the  refer- 
ence would  be  to  the  gjds  of  the  nations. 


152  SUBOKDINxVTE    SUPERNATUKAL   BEINGS. 

10);  the  Michael  of  the  New  Testament  Apocalypse  has  a 
somewhat  dillerent  coloring  from  the  angel  of  that  name  in 
Daniel,  —  he  is  the  prince  and  leader  of  the  people  of  God, 
but  his  conflict  with  the  dragon  connects  him  rather  with 
the  old  Babylonian  myth  of  the  fight  between  Bel  and 
Tiamat  than  with  the  function  of  guardianship.  The  names 
of  the  bibhcal  angels  are  Hebrew,  which  is  what  we  might 
expect  on  the  supposition  that  the  Jews  took  general  sugges- 
tions from  the  Persians,  and  worked  them  up  in  their  own 
manner. 

The  position  of  angels  in  the  New  Testament  is  in  general 
the  same  as  in  the  Old  Testament,  but  with  noteworthy 
modifications  in  some  books.  They  are  immortal  (Luke  xx- 
36),  and  neither  marry  nor  are  given  in  marriage  (Matt.  xxii. 
30) ;  their  special  ordinary  function  is  to  minister  to  God's 
people,  particularly  in  times  of  doubt  or  distress,  and  it  is 
thought  to  be  not  unnatural  that  they  should  speak  to  men 
(Acts  xxiii.  9,  a  Pharisaic  opinion,  shared,  no  doubt,  by  Chris- 
tians) ;  they  take  a  lively  interest  in  men's  spiritual  expe- 
riences (Luke  XV.  10)  ;  they  conduct  the  souls  of  the  righteous 
to  paradise  (Luke  xvi.  22) ;  they  inflict  disease  on  wicked  men 
(Acts  xii.  23)  ;  they  form  a  sort  of  heavenly  society,  before 
which  Christ  will  acknowledge  his  servants,  in  order  that 
they  may  be  admitted  to  the  privileges  of  this  blessed  com- 
panionship (Luke  xii.  8  ;  Rev.  iii.  5) ;  they  are  to  be  the  attend- 
ants of  the  Son  of  ]\Lan  when  he  shall  come  to  judge  the 
world,  it  is  they  who  will  gather  the  elect,  and  remove  the 
wicked  (Matt.  xiii.  41 ;  xxv.  31 ;  2  Thess.  i.  7) ;  they  are  them- 
selves called  "elect"  (1  Tim.  v.  21),  chosen  by  God  for  his 
service  in  distinction  from  those  "  angels  "  who  pertain  to  the 
Devil  (Matt. xxv. 41 ;  Eev.xii.  9),  — Satan,however,can  assume 
the  form  of  an  angel  of  light,  for  the  purpose  of  deceiving 
men,  just  as  his  ministers,  false  teachers  of  religion,  present 
themselves  as  apostles  of  Christ  (2  Cor.  xi.  14,  15)  ;  believers 


SUBORDINATE   SUPERNATURAL   BEINGS.  153 

are  attended  by  angels,  who  have  special  access  to  God  (Matt. 
xviii.  10 ;  Acts  xii.  15) ;  the  natural  inference  is  that  each 
believer  has  a  guardian  angel,  who  represents  him  in  the 
divine  presence  and  cares  for  his  interests,  —  an  extension 
of  the  conception  in  the  book  of  Tobit. 

Some  peculiar  representations  are  found  in  Paul's  Epistles. 
Believers,  it  is  said  (1  Cor.  vi.  3)  are  to  judge  angels  (whether 
good  or  bad  angels  is  not  clear)  to  be  superior  to  them  in 
dignity,  doubtless  in  consequence  of  their  near  relation  to 
Christ,  —  a  view  which  may  be  compared  with  that  of  Luke 
XX.  36,  where  they  are  thought  of  as  equal  to  the  good 
angels  ;  cf.  in  1  Pet.  i.  12  the  statement  that  these  last 
desire  to  understand  the  things  of  the  gospel,  the  inference 
being  that  they  are  not  completely  enlightened  therein. 
More  dithcult  is  his  opinion  that  women  in  the  church- 
gatherings,  or  while  praying  or  prophesying,  should  be  veiled 
"  on  account  of  the  angels  "  (  1  Cor.  xi.  10).  The  veil,  as  the 
sign  of  subordination,  is  understood  to  symbolize  man's 
authority  over  woman  —  but  what  has  this  to  do  with 
angels  ?  It  cannot  be  intended  simply  to  express  respect  fur 
them ;  this  would  be  equally  obligatory  on  men.  It  cannot 
be  to  teach  them,  whether  they  be  holy  or  unholy,  a  lesson 
of  subordination ,  this  seems  a  forced  idea.  Nor  is  it  nat- 
ural to  regard  the  expression  as  meaning  that  the  angels  will 
report  the  conduct  of  the  women  to  God  ;  the  apostle  would 
hardly  thus  refer  to  a  general  angelic  function  in  connection 
with  a  particular  custom.  His  intention  seems  to  be  to 
insist  that  the  woman  shall  wear  the  badge  of  subordination 
or  ownership  in  the  presence  of  beings  who  represent,  having 
had  a  part  in  establishing,  that  order  of  creation  in  which 
the  woman  was  made  subject  to  the  man.  In  that  case  we 
infer  that  he  understood  the  "  let  us  make  "  of  Gen.  i.  26  as 
including  the  angels.  In  Eom.  viii.  38  a  hierarchical  consti- 
tution of  the  angelic  world  is  hinted  at  in  the  expressions 


154  EVIL  SPIRITS. 

"  angels,  principalities,  powers,"  the  two  last  terms  being  not 
further  defined.  These  beings  are,  however,  here  presented 
as  hostile  to  the  Christian  life,  as  in  Eph.  vl  12,  Col.  ii  15  ;i 
while  in  Eph.  i.  21,  iii.  10,  Col.  i.  16,  ii.  10,  they  are  obe- 
dient servants  of  God.  It  appears,  therefore,  that  these  ex- 
pressions are  used  by  Paul  and  the  authors  of  Ephesians 
and  Colossians  in  a  twofold  sense,  of  both  good  and  bad 
supernatural  powers. 

This  later  angelic  scheme  appears  thus  to  be  the  Old  Tes- 
tament system,  organized  under  Persian  influence  into  a 
double  hierarchy  (good  and  bad),  and  in  the  Colossian  heresy 
(Col.  ii.  18)  tinged  with  the  gnostic  thought  wdiich  repre- 
sented the  angels  as  being,  both  ontologically,  and  as  objects 
of  worship  and  instruments  of  salvation,  the  connecting  link 
between  God  and  man.  In  the  Christian  scheme  proper  they 
were  subordinate  to  Christ,  and  probably  hi  general  to  the 
divine  spirit,  though  in  one  place  (Acts  viii.  26,  29)  the  same 
act  is  ascribed  at  one  time  to  an  angel,  at  another  to  the 
spirit.  On  this  point  there  was  doubtless  fluctuation  of  view, 
by  reason  of  the  fluctuating  conception  of  the  spirit. 

4  Coming  now  to  the  doctrine  of  evil  spirits,  we  take  for 
our  starting-point  the  general  Old  Testament  representation 
of  the  spirit- world  which  is  referred  to  above.  This  somewhat 
colorless  mass  of  beings  seems  to  have  been  gradually  differ- 
entiated in  accordance  with  tlie  advance  of  Jewish  ethical 
thouglit  stimulated  by  outside  influences.  One  might  suppose 
that  the  highly  developed  Babylonian  pneumatology  would 
have  measurably  affected  the  Israelitish  exiles;  but  the  liter- 
ature hardly  favors  such  a  supposition,  —  evil  spirits  pro])er 
do  not  appear  in  the  Old  T(>stament.  The  earliest  post- 
exilian  evil  being  is  Satan ;  for  tlie  explanation  of  the  later 

1  The  case  is  different  in  Gal.  i.  8,  wliore  the  preaching  of  anotlier  gospel 
by  an  "  angel  from  heaven  "  is  stated  as  a  mere,  and  iu  fact  impossible,  sup- 
position in  hyperbolical  fashion. 


EVIL  SPIRITS.  155 

demoniacal  system  we  are  rather  led  to  look  to  the  contact 
of  the  Jews  with  Persian  (and  perhaps  with  Greek)  ideas. 
The  Mazdean  religion  had  a  large  machinery  of  evil  spirits, 
to  which  was  ascribed  the  production  of  evil  effects  on  the 
body  and  the  soul  of  man,  though  there  seems  to  have  been 
no  well-delined  belief  in  demoniacal  possession;  the  long 
residence  of  the  Jews  on  Persian  soil  may  have  given  thein 
familiarity  with  this  spiritual  apparatus.  Of  direct  Greek 
influence  on  this  doctrine  there  is  no  proof;  but  that  it  was 
not  wholly  ineffective  may  perhaps  be  inferred  from  the 
usage  of  the  Septuagint  translators,  who  have  given  us  our 
word  "demon."  They  employed  this  familiar  Greek  term^  to 
render  Hebrew  expressions  for  heathen  deities,  idols,  and 
wilderness-spirits  (Deut.  xxxii.  17;  Ps.  xcv.  5;  cvi.  37;  Isa. 
Ixv.  11 ;  xiii.  21 ;  xxxiv.  14) ;  tliatis,  for  supernatural  powers 
in  general  hostile  to  the  God  of  Israel  This  sense  of  the  word 
maintained  itself  into  the  New  Testament  times ;  it  is  found, 
for  example,  in  a  passage  (1  Cor.  x.  20,  21)  in  which  Paul 
appears  to  say  that  the  eating  of  things  offered  to  Gentile 
deities  was  having  communion  with  demons.^  The  related 
sense  of  evil,  indwelling  spirit  also  attached  itself  to  current 
Greek  usage.  But  before  examining  this  point,  we  must  look 
at  earlier  Hebrew  developments  of  the  world  of  evil  spiritual 
agencies  o 

1  Da'imon,  used  by  Homer  (11.  i.  222)  and  the  tragic  poets  in  the  sense  of 
"god,"  "  divine  being,"  sometimes  also  with  the  idea  of  hurtfulness,  came  to 
be  employed  specifically  to  signify  secondary  deities,  and  finally  the  shades  of 
the  dead.  Plato  fApol.  i.  h)  distinguishes  between  gods  and  demons,  suggest- 
ing that  the  latter  are  children  of  gods.  Daimomon  is  likewise  equivalent  to 
"  deity  ;  "  the  charge  against  Socrates  was  (Xen.  Mem.  i.  1,  1)  that  he  refused 
to  acknowledge  publicly  the  gods  (theous)  of  the  city,  and  introduced  other 
new  deities  {daimonia).  Socrates'  own  daimomon  was  a  genius  or  guardian 
who  told  him  what  he  ought  and  onght  not  to  do  (Mem.  iv.  8,  1).  From  this 
conception  in  part  came  tlie  later  Jewish  use  of  the  term,  on  which  see  below, 

2  This  statement  .seems  to  rest  on  the  old  idea  that  sacrifices  were  acts  of 
communion  between  the  god  and  the  worshipper,  both  partaking  of  the  flesh 
of  the  animal  offered. 


156  EVIL   SPIRITS. 

We  have  already  seen  that  before  the  exile  no  one  figure 
stands  out  prominently  from  the  mass  of  spirits  who  do  the 
bidding  of  Yahwe  ;  he  is  absolutely  supreme,  and  his  minis- 
ters perform  whatever  good  or  bad  offices  he  assigns  them. 
But  just  after  the  return  from  Babylon,  a  new  spiritual  actor 
in  the  affairs  of  Israel  appears  in  the  shape  of  an  "adver- 
sary," a  Satan,  whose  function  it  is  to  oppose  the  welfare  of 
the  chosen  people.  The  prophet  Zechariah  pictures  the  high 
priest  Joshua,  the  representative  of  the  nation,  as  pleading 
his  people's  cause  before  the  angel  of  the  Lord  ;  he  is  opposed 
by  "the  Satan,"  whose  object  is  to  prevent  the  rebuilding 
of  Jerusalem  ;  the  Satan  is  rebuked,  and  Joshua  is  promised 
that  if  he  will  faithfully  keep  God's  commands  the  nation 
shall  be  established.  The  figure  of  the  great  spiritual  adver- 
sary of  the  nation  seems  here  to  be  in  the  act  of  taking 
shape.  He  is  the  embodiment  of  all  of  Israel's  difficulties 
and  enemies.  Israelitish  thought,  constantly  grappling  with 
the  problem  of  the  suffering  of  Yahwe's  people,  had  appar- 
ently reached  the  conviction  that  the  opposition  to  the  na- 
tional well-being  must  come  from  a  spirit  hostile  to  God. 
This  is  a  great  advance  on  the  pre-exilian  conception  of  the 
constitution  of  the  spirit-world  ;  we  can  only  suppose  that 
the  conditions  of  Jewish  life  in  Babylonia  had  induced  rapid 
progress  in  this  direction.  In  the  book  of  Job  we  may  recog- 
nize further  progress  in  the  elaboration  of  the  idea  of  Satan. 
In  the  prophet,  his  relations  are  with  Israel;  in  Job,  with 
humanity.  He  traverses  the  earth  with  no  benevolent  in- 
tent ;  he  discusses  Job's  character  witli  cynical  acuteness ;  he 
induces  God  to  subject  his  servant  to  severest  tests  simply 
to  try  his  integrity.  He  is  a  malignant  and  powerful  being, 
but  he  is  not  detached  from  the  person  and  service  of  God ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  is  a  member  of  the  divine  court,  presents 
himself  among  the  sons  of  God  before  the  divine  throne,  is 
called  on  by  Yahwe  to  make  report  of  his  doings,  and  re- 


EVIL   SPIRITS.  157 

ceives  from  liim  his  commission  to  test  the  character  of  Job. 
Such  also  is  probably  his  position  in  Zechariah.^  The  repre- 
sentation in  Job  is  an  imaginative  one  ;  Satan  appears  only 
in  the  court  of  heaven,  in  the  dwelling-place  of  God  and 
his  ministers.  In  1  Chron.  xxi.  1  he  is  introduced  in  a  more 
commonplace  manner  as  tempting  David  to  number  Israel. 
The  progress  involved  m  this  statement  may  be  seen  by  a 
comparison  of  2  Sam.  xxiv.  1,  where,  in  the  description  of 
the  same  incident,  it  is  Yahwe  who  incites  the  king  to  the 
act  of  disobedience.  Between  the  two  statements  (an  inter- 
val of  probably  two  or  three  hundred  years)  the  feeling  had 
grown  up  that  instigation  to  evil  could  not  properly  be  re- 
ferred to  God ;  an  evil  spirit  becomes  the  agent  of  temptation 
to  sin.  The  advance  in  this  representation  consists,  as  is  in- 
timated above,  in  the  completer  introduction  of  Satan  into 
man's  every-day  life.  In  Zechariah,  he  is  the  adversary  of 
the  nation  ;  in  Job,  his  role  is  that  of  slanderer  of  righteous 
men  (the  nation  also  being  perhaps  had  in  mind) ;  in  Chron- 
icles, while  the  event  in  question  is  a  national  one,  it  may 
probably  be  inferred  that  he  is  regarded  as  a  general  inciter 
to  evil,  entering  into  the  conduct  of  man's  spiritual  life. 

After  1  Chron.  xxi.  1,  Satan  is  mentioned  no  more  in  the 
Old  Testament,  and  rarely  in  the  extra-biblical  books ;  the 
two  works  in  which  he  appears  treat  him  in  very  differ- 
ent ways.  The  first  attempt  at  a  spiritual  interpretation  of 
the  serpent  of  Gen.   iii.  occurs  in  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon 

^  It  is  difficult  to  fix  the  chronological  relation  of  Joh  to  Zechariah  pre- 
cisely. Even  if  we  regard  the  man  Job  as  the  representative  of  Israel,  and 
the  thought  of  the  book  as  springing  out  of  the  exilian  suffering,  it  is  not 
necessary  to  place  its  composition  during  the  exile.  The  condition  and  feel- 
ing of  suffering  doubtless  continued  after  the  return.  The  elaborate  argu- 
mentation of  the  book  rather  points  to  a  later  period.  The  portraiture  of 
Satan  in  Job  seems  to  be  more  developed  than  that  in  Zechariah,  and  the 
prologue  seems  to  belong  to  the  original  scheme  of  the  work.  It  may  he 
added  that  the  interpretation  of  the  person  of  Job  as  a  representative  of  Israel 
does  not  accord  with  the  evident  non-national  coloring  of  the  book. 


158  EVIL   SPIRITS. 

(ii.  24).  The  narrative  in  Genesis  recognizes  in  the  tempter 
of  Eve  only  an  animal  form,  endowed  with  intelligence  and 
speech.^  This  account,  apparently  the  survival  and  recon- 
struction of  an  old  Semitic  myth,^  stands  isolated  in  Gen- 
esis ;  it  is  mentioned  nowhere  else  in  the  Old  Testament. 
But  after  the  fifth  century  b.  c.  (when  the  narrative  prob- 
ably assumed  its  present  shape)  the  feeling  would  naturally 
arise  in  some  circles  that  so  tremendous  an  event  as  tlie 
introduction  of  sin  and  death  into  the  world  could  not  be 
referred  to  the  agency  of  beast  ;  the  serpent-form  would 
come  to  be  regarded  as  the  vehicle  chosen  by  a  great  spir- 
itual adversary  to  vent  on  the  first  man  the  hate  winch 
according  to  the  earlier  books  inspired  his  attempts  on  Israel 
and  Job.  The  name  given  in  Wisdom  to  this  wicked  spirit 
is  Diabolos,  the  accuser  or  adversary  (the  Greek  translation 
of  the  Hebrew  name  Satan).  It  can  hardly  be  doubted  that 
in  the  mind  of  the  writer  this  being  was  identical  with  the 
Satan  of  the  Jewish  books.  "  Through  envy  of  the  Devil," 
so  the  passage  runs  (that  is,  envy  of  man's  immortality  or 
happiness),  "  death  came  into  the  world."  Here  the  activity 
of  the  Adversary  assumes  the  largest  proportions,  —  he  has 
succeeded  in  inflicting  the  greatest  evil  on  the  human  race. 
The  book  of  Enoch,  with  its  fondness  for  hierarchical  organi- 
zation, makes  Satan  the  head  and  ruler  of  evil  spirits  (liii.  3), 
and  places  under  him  a  herd  of  satans  who  do  his  bidding  in 
wicked  ministrations. 

That  tlie  progress  of  the  idea  of  Satan  as  tempter  was  slow 
seems  probable,  not  only  from  the  infrequency  with  which 
he  is  introduced  (he  does  not  appear  between  Enoch  and  the 
New  Testament),  but  also  from  the  fact  that  neither  Enoch 

1  ,Tosoi)liu.s  iil.so,  who,  as  belonging  to  a  priestly  family,  was  jirolialily  well 
instructed  in  tlie  orthodox  Jewish  theology  of  tlie  time,  here  recognizes  only 
the  animal  serpent  (Ant.  i.  1,  4). 

2  The  conflict  of  the  dragon  Tiamat  with  the  gods. 


EVIL   SPIRITS.  159 

nor  Joseplius  connects  hira  with  the  serpent  of  Genesis.  Pos- 
sibly tliis  identification  began  in  Egy[)t  in  a  Jewish  circle  in- 
fluenced by  Greek  speculation  (represented  by  the  Wisdom  of 
Solomon),  and  only  gradually  penetrated  inta  Palestine.  The 
data  are,  however,  insufficient  for  determining  to  what  extent 
this  view  was  held  by  Palestinian  Jews  before  the  beginning 
of  our  era.  It  is  certain  that  Satan  appears  as  a  well-devel- 
oped figure  in  the  earliest  parts  of  the  New  Testament,  and 
we  may  hence  conclude  that  in  the  preceding  two  centuries 
he  had  formed  a  distinct  part  of  the  Jewish  belief  The 
strenuous  Jewish  monotheism  may  have  been  unfavorable  to 
the  easy  recognition  of  so  powerful  an  opponent  of  God.^ 

Alongside  of  the  development  of  the  conception  of  a  great 
spiritual  adversary,  there  grew  up  a  history  of  fallen  angels, 
the  starting-point  of  which  was  the  account  in  Gen.  vi. 
1,  2.  The  origin  and  date  of  this  passage  are  doubtful.  The 
"  sons  of  the  Elohim  "  are  in  general  angels  (this  expression 
never  meaning  anything  else  in  the  Old  Testament),  or  more 
exactly,  they  are  members  of  the  class  of  Elohim-beings, 
the  Israelitish  representatives  of  tlie  old  divinities.  Inter- 
marriages between  deities  and  human  beings  abound  in  all 
mythologies ;  such  alliances,  surviving  in  a  monotheistic  sys- 
tem, would  naturally  take  the  shape  of  the  Genesis-story. 
This  may  be  the  remnant  of  a  mythical  narrative  brought 
by  the  Hebrews  from  Mesopotamia  to  Canaan,  or  it  may 
have  come  to  the  Jews  from  the  Babylonians  during  the 
exile,  or  from  the  Assyrians  before  the  exile.  For  our  pres- 
ent purposes,  it  does  not  greatly  matter  which  one  of  these 
explanations  we  adopt.  The  incident  is  not  elsewhere  men- 
tioned in  the  Old  Testament,  and  had  no  perceptible  influ- 
ence on  the  Jewish  thought  of  the  Old  Testament  time.  The 
story  appears  to  be  introduced  in  Genesis,  not  to  account  for 

1  The  later  Jewish  Satanology  also  seems  to  have  been  somewhat  uucer- 
tain  in  tone.     See  Weber,  "  System,"  §§  48,  54. 


160  EVIL  srmiTS. 

the  increasing  wickedness  of  man,  and  tlms  as  a  partial  ex- 
planation of  the  flood  (for  the  writer  does  not  condemn  the 
procedure  of  the  angels),  but  to  set  forth  the  origin  of  the 
ancient  heroes,  the  men  of  renown ;  the  incident  is  narrated 
with  the  utmost  impersonality,  simply  as  an  historical  fact. 
The  book  of  Enoch,  which  takes  this  material  and  expands 
it  at  great  length,  adopts  an  altogether  different  tone.  It 
denounces  the  conduct  of  the  angels  as  the  height  of  im- 
piety, gives  the  names  of  their  leaders,  and  ascribes  to  them 
the  beginnings  of  all  the  wickedness  of  the  world.  They 
are  said  to  have  taught  men  the  science  of  war,  the  art  of 
writing,  and  other  hurtful  things  (ch.  Ixix.).  Their  leaders 
are  Azazel  and  Semyaza  ;  their  fate  is  to  be  bound,  hand  and 
foot,  and  imprisoned  till  the  day  of  judgment,  when  they  are 
to  be  cast  into  the  fire  (ch.  x.).  This  elaborate  narrative  is 
an  attempt  at  a  philosophical  history  of  civilization,  following 
and  expanding  the  idea  of  Gen.  i.-xi. ;  it  undertakes  to  give 
tlie  beginnings  of  the  arts  of  life,  which  it  thinks  it  necessary 
to  refer  to  a  supernatural  origin,  and,  curiously  enough,  to  anti- 
godly  agency.^  So  primitive  and  malistic  a  view,  one  would 
suppose,  could  have  had  no  wide  currency.  The  whole  angel- 
ological  scheme  seems  not  to  have  made  any  great  impres- 
sion on  the  Jewish  mind  ;  part  of  the  description  in  Enoch 
is  adopted  in  the  New  Testament  Apocalypse  (xx.  1-3) ;  the 
fate  of  the  angels  who  came  down  from  heaven  is  briefly 
summed  up  in  Jude  6 ;  and  there  is  perhaps  an  allusion  in 
Luke  X.  18  to  the  same  occurrence  in  the  statement  that 
Satan  fell  like  lightning  from  heaven ;  but  the  body  of  the 
New  Testament  thought  ignores  this  episode.     It  was  rc- 

1  How  the  author  construed  the  parallel  hut  dis.similar  account  of  the  ori- 
gins of  civilization  in  Gen.  iv.  16-24  is  not  clear.  The  descent  of  the  angels 
is  put  in  the  days  of  Jared  (Gen.  v.  18,  cf.  Irad,  Gen.  iv.  18)  in  the  hook  of 
Jubilees  (4),  and  in  the  Greek  text  of  Enoch  (vi.  6),  —  a  hit  of  folk-etymology 
("Jared  "  means  "  descending  ") ;  the  author  of  Enoch  probably  held  that  the 
Cainites  learned  the  arts  from  the  angels. 


EVIL   SPIRITS.  161 

served  for  post- biblical  Christianity  to  elaborate  the  fall  of 
the  angels  into  a  dogma.  In  the  Old  Testament  neither  their 
fall  nor  their  creation  is  mentioned ;  their  existence  is  sim- 
ply assumed,  as  in  Job  xxxviii.  7,  where  it  is  said  that  at 
the  creation  of  the  world  the  morning  stars  sang  together 
and  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy.  This  reticence  re- 
specting their  creation  is  easily  understood  if  we  consider 
the  angels  to  be  a  survival  and  development  out  of  the  old 
deities,  or  Elohim -beings,  whose  participation  in  the  work  of 
the  creation  of  the  world  is  involved  in  the  "let  us  make 
man  "  of  Gen.  i.  26.  The  Hebrews,  receiving  and  accepting 
these  beings  as  coeval  with  Yahwe,  might  naturally  not 
think  of  them  as  included  in  the  created  world ;  there  was 
an  old  Babylonian  myth  (given  in  the  cuneiform  creation 
tablet)  which  derived  all  the  gods  from  two  primitive  water- 
beings,  but  there  is  no  clear  trace  of  this  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment.^ Those  who  insist  on  seeing  the  creation  of  the  angels 
in  the  biblical  history  of  creation  either  prefer  to  insert  it 
between  the  first  and  second  verses  of  the  first  chapter  of 
Genesis,  and  find  in  the  angelic  apostasy  and  rebellion  the 
explanation  of  the  chaos  which  they  hold  to  have  supervened 
on  God's  first  good  creation,^  or  they  hold  it  to  be  included 
in  Gen.  ii.  1,  where,  however,  the  "host  of  them"  refers  to 
the  physical  creation  (as  in  Ps.  cxlviii.  5).-^ 

In  this  connection  we  may  note  the  curious  figures  of 
Leviathan,  Behemoth,  and  Rahab,  which  appear  in  the  Old 
Testament  in  several  different  senses.     In  Job  xli.  1,  Levi- 

1  The  abyss  (tehom)  of  Gen.  i.  2  is  the  primeval  earth-covering,  out  of 
which  (vs  20,  21)  come  marine  creatures.  If  there  is  a  faint  survival  in 
verse  2  (the  "wind  "  or  "spirit "  of  God  moved  or  hovered  over  the  waters) 
of  the  old  conception  of  the  plastic  water,  it  has  been  quite  transformed  by  the 
monotheistic  feeling.     On  Leviathan,  Behemoth,  and  Rahab,  see  below. 

2  Compare  the  Talmudic  statement  that  the  present  successful  creation  was 
only  accomplished  after  several  failures,  Weber,  "  System,"  §  43. 

3  In  Neh.  ix.  6,  the  "host  of  heaven,"  which  worships  God,  is  different 
from  the  "host "  which  he  is  said  to  have  made. 

11 


162  EVIL   SPIRITS. 

atlian  ^  seems  to  be  the  Egyptian  crocodile,  or  else  a  myth- 
ical beast,  and  in  Ps.  civ.  26  some  huge  sea-animal ;  it  occurs 
twice  as  a  symbol  of  Egypt  in  Ps.  Ixxiv.  21,  apparently 
under  the  form  of  the  crocodile,  and  in  Isa.  xxvii,  1,  where  it 
is  pictured  as  a  winding  serpent.  The  use  of  the  term  in 
Isaiah  connects  itself  with  the  mythical  reference  in  Job  iii.  8 
(cf.  xxvi.  13),  where  the  Leviathan  is  apparently  the  celes- 
tial serpent  who  swallows  or  otherwise  obscures  the  sun  and 
the  moon,  and  who  may  be  roused  by  enchantments  ;  in  this 
late  form  it  is  a  mythical  embodiment  of  the  black  storm- 
cloud  or  the  eclipsing  shadow  regarded  as  a  hostile  demon. 
It  is  probable  that  the  portraiture  of  the  dragon  in  the  New 
Testament  Apocalypse  receives  its  coloring  in  part  (see  Pev. 
xii.  4,  13)  from  this  source.  An  earlier  conception  is  found 
in  Enoch  Ix.  (a  Noachic  fragment),  where  Leviathan  is  a 
female  monster  dwelling  in  the  depth  of  the  sea ;  in  2  Esdras 
vi.  49-52,  the  creation  of  this  beast  is  assigned  to  the  fifth 
day ;  and  it  is  stated  that  it  is  to  be  devoured  by  them  whom 
God  shall  choose.  With  Leviathan  is  associated  P.ehemoth 
(Enoch  Ix.  8,  where  it  is  masculine),  after  Job  xl.  and  xli., 
and  in  the  Talmud  it  is  declared  that  these  creatures  are 
to  be  the  food  of  Israel  in  the  coming  age  of  blessedness. 
There  is  a  singular  resemblance  between  this  conception  of 
two  great  water-monsters  and  the  Babylonian  myth  above- 
mentioned  of  the  two  primitive  water  principles,  —  Apsu  and 
Tiamat,  male  and  female,^  from  whom  proceeded  all  otlier  be- 
ings. The  resemblance  between  Leviathan  and  Tiamat  can 
hardly  be  accidental ;  both  are  female,  and  both  are  marine 
and  celestial  dragons  which  make  war  against  the  good 
powers.     The  Pahab  of  Job  ix.  13,  xxvi.  12  (cf.  Isa.  xxx.  7), 

'  The  orijjin  of  tho  name  is  ohscure ;  it  Jiiay  signify  any  lon^;  least,  and 
80  be  e<inivalent  to  "serpent,"  or  "dragon  "  (Isa  xxvii.  1). 

2  Cf.  Enoch  liv.  8,  where  the  water  in  the  heavens  is  masculine  and  the 
water  on  the  earth  feminine. 


EVIL  SPIRITS.  163 

is  a  similar  demonic  conception.  These  three  figures  are  in- 
teresting as  instances  of  the  manner  in  which  the  Jewish 
rehgious  thought  dealt  with  the  old  mythical  material,  grad- 
ually humanizing  it,  and  more  and  more  holding  it  aloof 
from  the  essential  spiritual  framework  of  theology.  A  vin- 
dictive dragon,  originally  the  destructive  waters  of  ocean  or 
sky,  becomes  finally  a  beast  whose  flesh  is  to  furnish  food 
to  the  people  of  God. 

The  Satan  of  the  New  Testament  is  substantially  identical 
with  the  pre-Christian  figure,  only  modified,  more  sharply 
marked  off,  and  more  liighly  elaborated,  in  accordance  with 
the  characteristic  moral-spiritual  ideas  and  intensity  of  Chris- 
tianity. He  is  the  chief  of  the  kingdom  of  evil  spirits  and 
angels  (Matt.  xii.  26  ;  xxv.  41 ) ;  he  has  power  to  inflict  disease 
on  the  bodies  of  men  (Luke  xiii.  16  ;  1  Cor.  v.  5  ;  1  Tim.  i.  20)  ; 
he  tempts  to  sin  (^Matt.  iv.  1-11  ;  Eph.  vi.  11),  and  may  be  re- 
sisted (Jas.  iv.  7) ;  lie  enters  into  and  controls  bad  men  (Luke  xx. 
3,  31 ;  John  viii.  44) ;  he  is  the  opponent  of  the  truth  (Mark  iv. 
15  ;  Matt.  xiii.  39  ;  1  Thess.  ii.  18  ;  Rev.  iii.  9  ;  1  Pet.  v.  8);  his 
hatred  is  said  in  one  passage  (Jude  9)  to  extend  to  the  dead 
body  of  Moses  ;  ^  he  is  identified  with  the  dragon  and  with  the 
serpent  (Eev.  xii.  9 ;  xx.  2,  7,  cf.  John  viii.  44  ;  1  Tim.  ii.  14), 
and  the  names  Satan  and  the  Devil  are  used  interchangeably ; 
he  is  to  be  cast  into  hell  (Matt.  xxv.  41,  and  cf.  Luke  x.  18  ; 
Eev.  XX.  10).  He  is,  in  a  word,  the  prince  and  god  of  this 
world  (2  Cor.  iv.  4 ;  John  xiv.  30),  the  head  and  embodiment 
of  all  those  influences  in  human  life  which  are  hostile  to 
heavenly  godliness.  He  includes  in  himself  the  Satan  and 
the  Azazel  of  Enoch  and  the  prince  of  the  demons,  Beelze- 
bub (Matt.  xii.  24) ;  he  unites  in  his  person  all  morally  evil 
qualities ;  he  is  the  leader  of  all  those  spiritual  bad  powers 
whose  development   has   been   traced   above.     In  the  New 

1  On  this  story  see  my  "  Quotations  in  the  New  Testament,"  New  York, 
Scribner,  1884,  pp.  250  f. 


164  EVIL   SPIRITS. 

Testament,  as  in  the  pre-Christian  literature,  his  position  and 
functions,  and  especially  his  relation  to  God,  are  not  clearly- 
defined.^  Xo  attempt  is  made  to  show  how  his  enormous 
power  and  wicked  activity  are  to  be  brought  into  harmony 
with  the  divine  omnipotent  goodness.  He  is  no  mere  symbol 
or  personification  of  the  wicked  elements  of  life ;  he  is  an  ob- 
jective being,  acting  apparently  without  limitations  of  time 
and  space.  In  some  cases  his  power  appears  to  be  repre- 
sented as  co-ordinate  with  that  of  God.  If  God  chooses  those 
who  are  to  believe  unto  salvation,  it  is  Satan  who  blinds  the 
minds  of  the  unbelieving,  that  the  light  of  the  gospel  of  the 
glory  of  Christ,  who  is  the  image  of  God,  should  not  dawn 
upon  them  (2  Cor.  iv.  4).  The  title,  "  God  of  this  world," 
implies  vast  power,  and  reminds  us  of  the  Persian  rival  of 
Ahura-Mazda.  But  on  the  other  hand,  the  New  Testament 
has  a  perfectly  distinct  conviction  of  the  absolute  supremacy 
of  God.  He  is  the  sole  fountain  of  power  in  the  universe  ; 
at  the  end,  the  kingdom  is  to  be  his,  death  being  swallowed 
up  (1  Cor.  XV.  24,  54),  and  in  the  Apocalypse  (xx.  10), 
Satan  is  to  be  tormented  forever  and  forever.  He  represents 
the  evil  of  the  world,  and  is  to  endure  till  evil  shall  be 
blotted  out  by  the  perfecting  of  the  righteous  and  the  im- 
prisonment of  the  wicked.  There  is  no  hint  of  a  possible 
change  in  Satan's  moral  character.  The  New  Testament 
leaves  him,  at  the  beginning  of  the  new  dispensation,  as  the 
embodiment  of  evil,  to  abide  forever,  but  in  chains  and  dark- 
ness, shorn  of  his  power,  impotent  any  longer  to  disturb  the 
moral  order  of  the  universe.  Its  solution  of  tlie  problem 
of  evil  is  practical,  not  logical  or  philosophical. 

1  There  is  no  <listiiict  chronological  development  of  his  person  in  the  New 
Testament.  His  activity  is  in  general  more  physical  in  the  Apocalypse  and 
Jude  and  in  the  demoniacal  representations  of  the  Gos])els,  more  mental  and 
spiritual  in  the  Epistles  and  the  Fourth  Gospel,  —  a  difference  that  seems 
to  result  chiefly  from  the  subject-matter  and  the  religious  point  of  view  of 
the  writers. 


EVIL   SPIRITS.  165 

While  we  may  thus  trace  the  general  line  of  progress  of 
the  figure  of  Satan,  it  is  less  easy  to  account  for  its  origin. 
It  appears  suddenly  in  Zechariah  and  Job,  apparently  with- 
out preparation.  The  only  individualized  evil  form  of  whicli 
we  read  in  the  earlier  literature  is  the  spirit  of  1  Kings  xxii. 
21,  and  that  differs  from  Satan  in  two  important  respects :  it 
belongs  to  a  different  class  of  beings,  and  it  has  no  distinct 
ethical  character;  Satan  is  not  a  "spirit,"  but  one  of  the 
"  sons  of  the  Elohim  "  (Job  i.  6),  and  he  is  distinctly  malevo- 
lent. Both  these  points  have  significance  in  the  Israelitish 
religious  development:  the  Elohim-beings  have  their  own 
history ;  and  the  ascription  of  moral  evil  to  an  Israelitish 
supernatural  form  seems  to  mark  a  turning-point  in  the 
national  conception  of  life,  —  it  is  the  beginning  of  the  at- 
tempt to  separate  the  domain  of  evil  from  that  of  God. 
When  the  figure  of  Satan  appears  abruptly,  just  after  the 
close  of  the  exile,  we  naturally  ask  whether  it  is  a  product  of 
the  unassisted  Israelitish  religious  consciousness  or  the  out- 
come in  part  of  foreign  influence.  But  foreign  influence 
competent  to  produce  such  a  result  in  whole  or  in  part,  it 
does  not  seem  possible  to  discover.  The  Jews  with  whom 
the  prophet  Zechariah  returned  to  Palestine  were  in  contact 
with  the  Persians  too  short  a  time  to  borrow  a  great  religious 
idea  from  them,  even  if  the  latter  then  had  the  Ahriman  of 
the  A  vesta.  Among  the  Babylonians,  with  whom  the  Jews 
had  lived  half  a  century,  we  know  of  no  great  spiritual  adver- 
sary ;  they  had  evil  spirits,  as  the  Jews  had,  but  no  such  idea 
as  that  of  Satan.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  Satan,  when  we 
first  meet  him,  is  distinctly  incorporated  into  the  well-devel- 
oped monotheism  of  the  time ;  he  is  a  servant  of  Yahwe, 
though  an  enemy  of  Yahwe's  friends.  Such  a  conception 
presupposes  a  considerable  period  of  development ;  and  in 
spite  of  the  absence  of  earlier  details,  it  seems  most  in  accord- 
ance with  the  facts  to  regard  it  as  a  native  Jewish  growth. 


]66  EVIL  SPIRITS. 

We  know  that  the  sons  of  the  Elohim  had  formed  part  of  the 
national-religious  material,  probably  of  the  folk-religion  ;  this 
element  may  have  been  ignored  by  the  pre-exilian  and  exilian 
prophets,  as  having  for  them  no  spiritual  significance.  But 
the  national  history  during  the  seventh  and  sixth  centuries 
called  up  serious  problems  and  stimulated  ethical-religious 
thought.  In  particular,  men's  minds  were  occupied  with 
the  question  of  Israel's  suffering,  —  why,  it  was  asked,  had 
Yahwe  permitted  hostile  hands  to  bear  so  heavily  on  his 
people  ?  The  prophets  had  their  answer,  —  it  was  the  pun- 
ishment of  the  nation's  sin.  But  after  a  while  this  answer 
became  unsatisfactory  to  certain  thinkers  who  held  that 
the  nation  was  not  all  sinful ;  why  should  the  righteous 
be  involved  in  the  deserved  suffering  of  their  unrighteous 
fellow-countrymen  ?  To  one  man  at  least  it  seemed  (Isa.  liii.) 
that  the  affliction  of  the  righteous  Israel  was  vicarious,  —  that 
the  end  in  the  divine  procedure  was  to  bring  not  only  all 
Israel,  but  also  the  Gentiles,  to  himself  (Isa.  xlix.  1-6).  This 
exalted  view  of  the  situation  did  not,  however,  commend  it- 
self to  all  the  prophet's  contemporaries ;  it  was  too  lofty 
and  broad,  and  perhaps  too  natural.  The  larger  human  ques- 
tion also — why  good  men  in  general  suffered  —  was  pressing 
for  a  solution;  and  the  idea  of  individual  moral- religious 
discipline  seems  not  to  have  presented  itself,  or,  if  considered, 
to  have  been  held  to  be  insufficient.  The  explanation  in 
both  cases  was  sought  in  the  unfriendly  activity  of  a  great 
supernatural  power,  —  one  of  those  beings  who,  allied  in  nature 
to  Yahwe  and  associated  with  him,  thougli  in  a  subordinate 
way,  in  the  control  of  the  world,  wielded  an  important  influ- 
ence over  the  affairs  of  men.  How  such  a  being  came  to  be 
unfriendly  is  not  told  in  the  Old  Testament :  Zechariah  in- 
troduces the  Satan  without  a  word  of  comment ;  the  book  of 
Job  accounts  for  the  possibility  of  his  procedure  by  the  pur- 
pose of  Yahwe  to  test  and  demonstrate  the  integrity  of  his 


EVIL  SPIRITS.  167 

servant.  Both  books  seem  to  assume  that  the  person  of  the 
Adversary  was  well  known ;  how  long  it  had  been  known  it 
is  impossible  to  say.  We  can  only  hold  in  general  that  the 
conception  of  a  supernatural  being  hostile  to  good  men  was 
forced  on  the  Jewish  religious  consciousness  by  the  circum- 
stances of  the  time,  and  that  such  a  being  would  naturally 
be  looked  for  in  the  ranks  of  the  sons  of  the  Elohim,  —  the 
companions  and  servants  of  Yahwe  from  time  immemorial; 
alongside  of  the  good  "angel  of  Yahwe"  might  stand  an 
equally  powerful  being  with  a  tinge  of  malevolence  in  his 
nature,  possibly  the  dim  survival  of  an  old  hurtful  deity, 
more  probably  the  product  of  a  reflective  age,  which  wished 
somehow  to  isolate  evil  from  good.  The  general  parallelism 
between  this  and  the  Persian  scheme  is  obvious,  —  both  arose 
out  of  the  same  ethical-religious  necessity,  —  but  there  seems 
to  be  no  sufficient  ground  for  supposing  an  historical  connec- 
tion between  the  two  at  this  stage. 

It  is  otherwise  with  the  later  Jewish  development  of  mor- 
ally evil  supernatural  agencies.  After  the  Jews  had  been  a 
hundred  years  subjects  of  the  Persian  empire  and  resident  in 
Persian  communities,  they  may  easily  be  supposed  to  have 
adopted  ideas  from  their  neighbors.  The  possibility  that  the 
rule  assigned  to  Azazel  in  Lev.  xvi.  was  in  part  determined 
by  Persian  influence  has  already  been  suggested.^  As  to  the 
times  of  Tobit  and  Enoch  there  can  be  no  doubt.  The 
Asmodaeus  of  Tobit  is  Persian ;  and  the  elaborate  angelology 
of  Enoch  is  most  naturally  explained  (as  in  the  case  of  the 
book  of  Daniel)  as  due  to  an  impulse  derived  from  the  Per- 
sian system.  The  description  in  Enoch  is  based  on  the 
account  in  Gen.  vi.,  and  the  "  sons  of  God  "  are  identified 
with  angels.    The  foundation  is  old-Semitic ;  but  the  organiza- 

^  A  similar  suggestion  might  be  made  in  regard  to  the  identification  of 
the  serpent  of  Gen  iii.  with  Satan.  For  the  objection  to  this  view  see  aliove, 
pp.  158f.  It  is  possible,  though  hardly  probable,  that  Wisd.  of  Sol.  got  its  in- 
terpretation fi'oni  a  Persian  source. 


168  EVIL   SPIRITS. 

tion  of  the  angels,  and  their  individualization  by  names  and 
by  the  assignment  of  individual  functions  in  the  development 
of  human  civilization,  is  foreign.  That  the  names  are  He- 
brew (in  contrast  with  the  Persian  name  Asmodaeus)  results 
from  the  fact  that  the  figures  are  Hebrew.  The  book  of 
Enoch  never  attained  canonical  authority ;  and  its  angelic 
names  seem  not  to  have  been  adopted  by  succeeding  gener- 
ations, —  its  details  were  too  bizarre  for  the  sober  Jewish 
thought.  The  idea  of  the  organization  of  the  evil  angels 
under  the  leadership  of  Satan  commended  itself,  and  is  found 
in  the  New  Testament ;  but  it  has  little  prominence,  except 
in  the  Apocalypse ;  in  the  practical  religious  life  the  evil 
supernatural  activity  is  concentrated  in  the  person  of  the 
chief,  and  his  subordinate  angels  practically  disappear.  The 
part  which  they  might  play  in  the  infliction  of  evil  on  men 
is  assigned  to  the  spirits. 

The  history  of  the  class  of  evil  intelligences  called  "spirits" 
is  no  less  remarkable  than  that  of  Satan  and  his  angels.  It 
culminates  in  the  idea  of  demoniacal  possession,  —  a  concep- 
tion which  has  its  roots  in  the  Old  Testament,  but  suddenly 
assumes  enormous  proportions  in  the  first  century  of  Chris- 
tianity. According  to  the  old  Israelitish  belief,  as  we  have 
seen,  all  mental  affections  (as  in  the  case  of  Saul,  1  Sam.  xvi.) 
were  ascribed  to  the  agency  of  spirits  sent  from  God ;  and 
these  remain  throughout  the  Old  Testament  morally  unde- 
fined,—  they  work  good  and  evil  alike.  The  later  differentia- 
tion into  two  classes  was  effected  by  Jewish  advance  in  dis- 
tinctness of  ethical  thought,  and  by  the  inlluence  of  foreign 
ideas,  —  Persian,  Greek,  and  other. 

It  is  in  the  book  of  Tobit  that  we  find  the  first  mention  of 
a  definite  relation  between  an  evil  spirit  and  a  liuman  being 
(Asmodaeus  and  Sara)  ;  in  Enoch  the  fallen  angels  appear  in 
human  sliape,  and  affect  men  rather  by  ordinary  luiman  inter- 
course than  by  direct  influence  on  tlie  soul.     The  Greek  idea 


EVIL   SPIRITS.  169 

is  visible  in  the  passage  of  Josephus  ("  War,'*  vii.  6,  3)  which 
assumes  that  sickness  is  produced  by  demons  who  are  no 
other  than  the  spirits  of  the  wicked.  We  have  no  further 
details  on  this  point  in  Jewish  literature  earlier  than  the 
New  Testament ;  but  that  the  belief  in  demonic  influence 
continued  among  the  Jews  is  evident  from  the  Talmud, 
which  makes  abundant  jnention  of  evil  spirits  and  magical 
processes,  expanding  the  Old  Testament  spiritual  material, 
and  dressing  out  the  old  narratives  with  exuberance  of  pic- 
turesque legend  (Weber,  "  System,"  §  54).  The  Jews  had  in 
the  mean  time  become  members  of  the  Eoman  Empire,  in 
which  the  belief  in  magic  and  exorcism  was  general.  There 
was,  about  the  beginning  of  our  era,  a  sort  of  revivification  of 
the  primeval  faith.  The  old  machinery  of  gods  had  almost 
disappeared  in  cultivated  circles.  Men  ridiculed  the  Olym- 
pian deities  and  even  the  patron  gods  of  the  Eoman  State, 
and  took  refuge  in  those  occult  powers  and  processes  which 
were  credible  because  they  were  at  once  visible  and  unintel- 
ligible ;  they  satisfied  the  demand  for  the  marvellous  without 
offending  the  science  and  philosophy  of  the  day.^  Whether 
this  foreign  belief  affected  the  Jews  cannot  be  definitely  de- 
termined ;  it  seems  probable  that  from  so  wide-spread  an 
opinion  some  influence  made  itself  felt  in  Palestine.  The 
Palestinian  belief  was  in  its  general  material  old-Israelitish ; 
but  it  had  received  the  important  modification  of  the  differ- 
entiation of  the  spirits  into  good  and  bad.  The  good,  how- 
ever, seem  partly  to  have  been  merged  in  the  body  of  the 

1  Cicero,  in  the  introduction  to  his  work  on  divination,  declares  that  there 
is  no  nation  that  does  not  believe  in  the  possibility  of  foretelling  the  future. 
Juvenal  (Sat.  vi.)  testifies  to  the  devotion  of  the  Roman  women  to  Chaldean 
and  Judeau  supernatural  arts,  and  Apuleius,  in  the  Goldeu  Ass,  speaks  of 
magic  arts  (by  which,  for  example,  a  woman  transforms  herself  into  a  bird 
and  the  hero  into  an  ass)  as  a  familiar  thing  in  his  time  (second  century  of 
our  era).  See  on  the  Greek  and  Roman  doctrine  of  demons  of  this  period  the 
remarks  of  L.  Friedlander,  "  Sittengeschichte  Roms,"  (Leipzig,  1881),  pp. 
486-488,  and  on  the  belief  in  miracles,  pp.  517  ff. 


170  EVIL   SPIRITS. 

good  angels  as  the  ministers  of  God's  beneficent  dealings  with 
men,  and  partly  to  have  been  absorbed  in  the  divine  spirit, 
which  came  more  and  more  to  be  regarded  as  the  source  of 
ethically  good  spiritual  influence  on  the  soul.  We  read  of  no 
organization  of  good  "  spirits  "  ;  in  the  New  Testament  the 
normally  sound  life  is  attributed  to  the  spirit  of  God,  while  it 
is  certain  peculiar  abnormal  evil  phenomena,  especially  those 
connected  with  mental  aberration,  the  explanation  of  which 
is  held  to  lie  in  the  agency  of  bad  powers. 

The  representation  of  insanity  as  demoniacal  possession 
was  not  a  new  one.  It  is  found  in  the  Old  Testament 
(Saul) ;  the  ecstasies  of  prophets,  seers,  and  priestesses  were 
sometimes  akin  to  madness  (1  Sam.  xix^24,  Mic.  i.  8,  and 
the  Pythia).  Such  a  frightful  distortion  of  the  human  soul 
was  not  unnaturally  looked  on  as  the  result  of  supernatiu'al 
influence.  The  unhappy  victims  of  possession  were  driven 
out  from  among  men  and  forced  to  dwell  in  tombs  and 
desolate  places ;  it  was  natural  that  Jesus,  in  his  mission 
of  mercy,  should  meet  these  unfortunates  and  try  to  alle- 
viate their  misery  and  restore  them  to  their  right  minds ; 
doubtless  many  of  them  needed  only  sympathy  and  care, 
and  few  of  them  were  without  a  trace  of  humanity  which 
might  be  successfully  appealed  to. 

In  the  New  Testament,  demoniacs  form  a  separate  class, 
being  distinguished  from  the  sick,  epileptic,  and  palsied 
(Matt.  iv.  24);  they  appear  to  abound  everywhere,  and 
their  healing  forms  a  prominent  part  of  the  work  of  Jesus 
and  his  disciples.  The  demons  inhal)it  the  bodies  and 
souls  of  men,  so  identifying  themselves  with  human  spirits 
that  the  two  personalities  are  not  always  distinguished. 
They  are  conscious  of  their  subordinate  relation  to  God; 
they  believe  in  him  and  tremble  (James  ii.  19),  while  they 
pursue  tlieir  anti-godly  career.  They  acknowledge  the  au- 
thority of   the  name  of  Christ  (Matt.  viii.  29).     They  are 


EVIL   SPIRITS.  171 

identified  with  heathen  deities  (1  Cor.  x.  20,  21 ;  Eev.  ix.  20  ; 
Acts  xvi.  16) ;  Satan,  their  prince,  receives  the  name  of  the 
old  Philistine  god,  I'eelzebub  (Matt.  xii.  24).  Piocesses  of 
exorcism  are  mentioned  in  Acts  xix.  13-16  (of.  passage 
cited  above  from  Josephus) ;  but  Jesus  and  his  disciples 
expelled  the  spirits  by  a  word.  No  account  of  their  origin 
is  given  in  the  New  Testament ;  they  are  numerous  (Mark 
V.  9);  they  belong  to  the  kingdom  of  Satan,  —  beyond  this 
nothing  is  said.  They  are  the  evil  spirits  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, organized  under  Persian  and  other  influence,  and  de- 
veloped into  sharper  antagonism  with  the  kingdom  of  God 
by  their  contact  with  Christianity. 

The  belief  in  demonic  possession  long  remained  in  the 
Christian  world,  passing  after  a  while  into  the  theory  of 
witchcraft,  then  slowly  disappearing.  The  establislied  be- 
lief in  the  orderly  processes  of  nature  makes  it  impossible 
for  the  present  day ;  the  Christian  world  no  longer  holds  to 
it  as  an  existing  phenomenon.  It  was  the  product  of  an 
unscientific  age,  —  a  part  of  the  general  attempt  to  construct 
a  system  of  intermediate  powers  between  God  and  man,  and 
to  disjoin  the  realm  of  evil  from  the  immediate  divine 
activity.  This  latter  purpose  it  did  not  really  accomplish, 
since  in  both  Old  Testament  and  New  Testament  God 
either  enjoins  or  permits  the  activity  of  the  wicked  spirits. 
But  the  religious  thought  of  the  biblical  times  found  in 
this  scheme  a  satisfactory  solution  of  the  problem  of  evil, 
confronting  the  fact  of  present  mal-arrangement  with  the 
hope  of  future  regeneration.  The  New  Testament  thus  pre- 
sents the  final  shaping  of  the  old  animistic  material.  The 
ancient  spirits  are  in  part  transformed  into  wicked  demons 
which,  suffered  l)y  God  for  a  time,  are  eventually  to  be 
brought  to  naught.  In  the  general  history  of  religious 
thought  they  may  be  looked  on  as  a  temporary  embodiment 
of  that  evil  which  in  the  Christian  conception  is  finally  to 


172  EVIL  SPIRITS. 

succumb  to  the  higher  ethical  power  which  belongs  to  the 
essential  constitution  of  things. 

A  general  review  of  the  doctrine  of  evil  spirits  in  Old 
Testament  and  New  Testament  exhibits  an  influence  of  the 
Persian  religion  on  the  Jewish,  but  brings  out  at  the  same 
time  the  difference  between  the  two  faiths.^  Both  sought  to 
account  for  certain  forms  of  evil  in  the  world  by  the  intro- 
duction of  intermediate  agencies  in  some  sort  independent 
of  the  righteous  and  benevolent  God.  But  in  one  the  sense 
of  evil  was  so  strong  as  to  give  birth  to  what  was  practically 
an  evil  deity ;  in  the  other  the  sense  of  the  aloneness  of  God 
was  so  deep  as  to  keep  the  evil  powers  practically  subordinate 
to  him.  In  both,  the  natural  ethical  feeling  imposed  limi- 
tations on  the  influence  assigned  to  the  evil  supernatural 
agencies ;  the  conviction  of  man's  moral  independence  gave 
tone,  in  spite  of  all  other  theories,  to  the  ethical-religious 
life.  This  is  evident  in  the  prophets  and  Psalms,  in  the  dis- 
courses of  Jesus  and  the  Epistles ;  it  is  only  in  the  folk-stories 
and  apocalypses  that  evil  spirits  play  a  very  important 
part.  It  would  be  fruitless  to  ask  what  the  Jewish  deraono- 
logical  development  would  have  been  without  foreign  influ- 
ence. We  can  hardly  doubt  that  the  pre-exilian  material 
would  have  maintained  itself  and  suffered  the  modifications 
which  growth  of  ethical  feeling  would  render  necessary. 

1  Much  uncertainty  rests  on  the  early  liistory  of  the  ^lazilean  religion. 
The  origins  are  discussed  by  Spiegel,  "  Eranische  Alterthumskunde  "  (Leip- 
zig, 1871-1878);  Darmesteter,  "  Ormazd  et  Ahriman  "  (Paris,  1877);  "The 
Zend  Avesta,"  Parts  L,  II.  (Oxford,  1880,  188.3) ;  De  Harlez,  "  Des  Origines 
du  Zoroastrisme "  (Paris,  1879);  "Avesta"  (Paris,  1881);  Mills,  "The  Zen.l 
Avesta,"  Part  III.  (Oxford,  1887);  Meyer,  "  Geschichte  des  Alterthums " 
(Stuttgart,  1884)  ;  Geldner,  article  "Zend  Avesta"  in  "Encycl.  Brit.,"  and 
others.  The  relation  between  the  Persian  and  Jewish  demonologies  is  treated 
by  Nicolas,  "Des  Doctrines  Religieuses  des  Juifs"  (Paris,  1800);  Kohnt, 
"Angelologie,  etc."  (in  Vol.  IV.  of  the  "  Abhandlnngen  fiir  die  Kunde  des 
Morgenlandes  "),  and  De  Ilarlez.  It  seems  not  rash  to  infer  from  the  tradi- 
tions and  from  the  tone  of  the  materials  of  the  "Avesta  "that  the  leading 
ideas  of  Mazdeism  were  in  existence  as  early  as  the  fourth  century  before 
the  beginning  of  our  era. 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

MAN. 

Tl  T'E  have  now  to  inquire  into  the  Jewish  and  Christian 
'  ♦  views  of  the  m oral-re Hgious  history  of  man,  the  con- 
stitution of  his  nature,  his  attitude  toward  right  and  wrong 
and  toward  God,  and  the  means  by  which  he  is  to  attain 
perfection. 

1.  The  Old  Testament  idea  of  the  constitution  of  man  is 
a  perfectly  simple  and  popular  one,  without  scientific  analy- 
sis and  distinctions,  and  without  philosophical  or  theological 
theories.  Common  observation  teaches  that  man  is  a  crea- 
ture composed  of  a  visible  bodily  frame  informed  by  an 
invisible  something  which  is  believed  to  be  connected  with 
thought,  feeling,  will,  with  all  that  makes  up  life.  Such  is 
the  conception  given  in  the  second  account  of  creation.  Gen. 
ii.  7:  God  "formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the  ground  and 
breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life,  and  man  became 
a  living  soul ; "  the  same  expression  for  the  totality  of  human 
being  is  found  in  Isa.  x.  18.  This  duality  of  being  is  given 
throughout  the  Old  Testament,  never  demonstrated  or  com- 
mented on,  but  always  assumed  as  common  opinion.  In  the 
first  account  of  creation,  Gen.  i.  26-28,  it  is  not  even  men- 
tioned ;  man  is  created  in  the  likeness  of  the  Elohim-beings 
("  our  likeness  "),  and  is  invested  with  dominion  over  all  the 
earth,  —  his  constitution  is  taken  for  granted. 

In  the  Old  Testament,  the  term  "  body  "  means  only  the  phy  • 
sical  mass  of  bones  and  flesh  and  blood ;  it  is  never  employed 
in  an  ethical  sense.  Nor  do  we  find  such  a  sense  given  to 
the  word  "flesh;"  in  Ezek.  xi.  19,  its  physical  peculiarity  of 


174  COXSTIIUTION   OF   MAN. 

softness  is  used  to  denote  figuratively  tenderness  and  im- 
pressibility of  heart.  It  is  sometimes  identical  with  "  body  " : 
"My  heart  is  glad  afid  my  glory  rejoices,  my  flesh  also 
dwells  in  security"  (Ps.  xvi.  9);  or  it  is  physically  distin- 
guished from  the  body,  probably  as  part  of  it :  "  When  thy 
flesh  and  thy  body  are  consumed"  (Prov.  v.  11) ;  or  it  means 
the  human  personality:  "My  flesh  trembles  for  fear  of  thee" 
(Ps.  cxix.  120);  and  so  in  combination  with  "heart":  "My 
heart  and  my  flesh  shout  to  the  living  God  "  (Ps.  Ixxxiv.  2\ 
It  is  used  also  to  express  animal  nature  in  contrast  with 
spiritual:  "Their  horses  are  flesh,  and  not  spirit"  (Isa.  xxxi. 
3) ;  or  human  nature  in  contrast  with  divine  conceived  of  as 
pure  spirit:  "In  God  I  have  put  my  trust,  I  fear  not  what 
flesh  can  do  to  me  "  (Ps.  Ivi.  4),  "  The  gods  whose  dwelling 
is  not  with  flesh"  (Dan.  ii.  11);  and  "all  flesh"  is  an  ex- 
pression for  all  mankind:  "0  thou  that  hearest  prayer, 
to  thee  shall  all  flesh  come"  (Ps.  Ixv.  2).  To  flesh  as  the 
characteristic  of  the  human  in  distinction  from  the  divine, 
attaches  the  idea  of  weakness:  "With  him  [the  king  of 
Assyria]  is  an  arm  of  flesh,  but  with  us  is  Yaliwe,  our  God  " 
(2  Chron.  xxxii.  8) ;  but  no  ethical  element  is  involved. 
Body  and  flesh  were  not  conceived  of  as  impure,  for  the 
flesh  of  animals  was  used  in  sacrifices  and  regarded  as  holy. 
They  contained  no  inherent  tendency  to  sin,  though  their 
weakness  and  their  association  with  the  appetites  might 
cause  them  to  be  thought  of  as  an  occasion  of  temptation. 
"Bone"  is  combined  with  "fle.sh"  to  express  the  whole  phy- 
sical structure  in  Gen.  xxix.  14,  2  Sam.  v.  1 ;  and  "  bones  "  is 
equivalent  to  "body"  in  Ps.  vi.  2  (1).  Blood,  in  accordance 
wath  general  observation,  is  everywhere  regarded  as  the  scat 
of  life  (Gen.  ix.  4;  Lev.  xvii.  11). 

The  soul,  according  to  the  Old  Testament  conception,  is 
primarily  that  breath  which  common  observation  shows  to 
be  the  universal  and  inseparable  accompaniment  of  life  with 


CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN.  175 

all  its  functions.  It  is  sometimes,  therefore,  simply  the 
animal  life,  as  where  Elijah  stretches  himself  on  the  dead 
child  and  prays  that  his  soul  may  come  into  him  again 
(1  Kings  xvii.  21) ;  or  where  it  is  said  of  the  king  that 
he  saves  the  souls  of  the  needy  (Ps.  Ixxii.  13) ;  and  such 
probably  is  the  representation  in  Gen.  ii.  7.  In  this  last 
passage  we  have  the  more  developed  view  of  the  soul  as 
the  breath  of  God  breathed  into  man;  in  which,  of  course 
we  are  not  to  see  a  pantheistic  idea,  but  only  the  simple 
belief  that  the  life  of  man  is  the  immediate  creation  of  God, 
—  a  belief  perhaps  connected  with  the  statement  in  the  first 
history  of  creation  that  man  was  made  in  the  image  of  the 
Elohim-beings,  The  word  "  soul,"  as  synonymous  with  life, 
naturally  comes  to  mean  "  person,"  as  in  Lev.  v.  1,  Gen.  xii. 
5,  Ezek.  xiii.  19  ;  and  the  expressions,  "my  soul,"  "thy  soul," 
"his  soul,"  become  equivalent  to  "myself,"  "thyself,"  "him- 
self" (Gen.  xii.  13;  Job  x.  1;  Ps.  Ivii  4;  1  Sam.  ii.  16;  Jer. 
xxxviii.  17;  Ps.  Ixxxix.  48;  Eccles.  ii.  24;  Mic.  vi.  7;  Isa. 
liii.  10) ;  and  it  may  even  be  used  for  a  dead  body,  inasmuch 
as  this  suggested  personality  (Lev.  xxi.  11).  The  more  im- 
portant ethical-religious  sense  of  the  word  is  to  express  the 
.whole  inward  nature,  as  in  Deut.  xiii.  3,  Ps.  Ixii.  5,  and 
many  other  passages.  Whatever  man  feels,  thinks,  or  wills, 
is  attributed  to  the  soul.  It  is  the  organ  of  all  spiritual- 
religious  thought ;  it  is  the  part  of  man  which  comes  into 
contact  with  God,  which  constitutes  the  essence  of  the  per- 
sonality. So  completely  does  it  include  all  human  functions 
that  while  it  is  said  to  be  restored  by  the  perfect  law  of  God 
(Ps.  xix.  7),  it  also  stands  for  the  inward  spirit  which  may 
be  discouraged  in  work  (Xum.  xxi.  4),  and  for  appetite :  "  As 
when  a  hungry  man  dreams,  and  behold,  he  eats,  but  lie 
awakes  and  his  soul  is  empty ;  or  as  when  a  thirsty  man 
dreams,  and  behold,  he  drinks,  but  he  awakes,  and  behold,  he 
is  faint,  and  his  soul  has  appetite  "  (Isa.  xxix.  8). 


176  CONSTITUTION  OF   MAN. 

The  use  of  the  word  "spirit"  in  the  Old  Testament  as 
part  of  human  nature  is  very  nearly  identical  with  that  of 
"  soul."  It  signifies  life,  or  the  inward,  invisible  seat  of 
life :  "  Who  knows  the  spirit  of  the  sons  of  men,  whether 
it  goes  upward,  and  the  spirit  of  the  beast,  whether  it  goes 
downward  to  the  earth?"  (Eccles.  iii.  21.)  It  is  the  intel- 
lect: Daniel  is  said  to  have  had  an  excellent  spirit  and 
knowledge  and  understanding  (Dan.  v.  12);  it  is  courage 
(Josh.  V.  1).  It  represents  the  wliole  inward  nature: 
Pharaoh's  spirit  was  troubled  by  his  dream  (Gen.  xli.  8) ; 
Elisha  asks  that  a  double  portion  (the  portion  of  an  oldest 
son)  of  Elijah's  spirit  (that  is,  of  his  whole  inward  power, 
intellectual  and  religious)  may  rest  on  him  (2  Kings  ii.  9); 
the  Psalmist  begs  for  a  steadfast  spirit,  a  nature  wholly 
attached  to  God  (Ps.  li.  10) ;  and  he  that  rules  his  spirit, 
that  is,  himself,  the  totality  of  his  inward  powers,  is  said  to 
be  better  than  he  who  takes  a  city  (Prov.  xvi.  2).  It  is 
the  seat  of  ethical-religious  life :  "  Happy  is  the  man  to 
whom  Yahwe  does  not  reckon  iniquity,  and  in  whose  spirit 
there  is  no  guile ;"  "the  sacrifices  of  God  are  a  broken  spirit: 
a  broken  and  a  crushed  heart,  0  God,  thou  dost  not  despise  " 
(Ps.  li.  17). 

Nor  is  there  any  different  statement  to  be  made  in  respect 
to  the  use  of  the  word  "heart,"  which  signifies  in  the  Old 
Testament  not  especially  the  emotional  nature,  but  the 
whole  inward  being  :  "  Hope  deferred  makes  the  heart  sick  " 
(Prov.  xiii.  12) ;  "  If  I  have  purposed  iniquity  in  my  heart, 
the  Lord  will  not  hear"  (Ps.  Ixvi.  18);  and  God  is  called 
the  "tryer  of  the  hearts  and  reins  "  (Ps.  vii.  10) ;  and  so  the 
term  comes  to  signify  the  personality,  as  in  Gen.  viii.  21, 
when  Yahwe  smells  the  sweet  savor  of  Noah's  sacrifice  and 
says  "in  his  heart"  that  he  will  not  again  curse  the  ground, 
and  Ps.  X.  6 :  "  He  says  in  his  heart,  I  shall  not  be  moved," 
that  is,  says  to  himself.     The  phrase  "  heart  and  flesh  "  also, 


CONSTITUTION   OF  MAN.  177 

as  is  remarked  above,  is  used  to  express  the  whole  being 
(Ps.  Ixxiii.  26 ;  Ixxxiv.  2) ;  it  is  equivalent  to  "  mind  (or 
soul)  and  body."^ 

The  New  Testament  has  all  the  uses  of  these  terms  above 
mentioned,  and  adds  others  which  flowed  naturally  out  of  its 
higher  spiritual  conception  of  human  life  and  its  sharper 
antithesis  between  opposing  elements.  "  Hody  "  is  the  phy- 
sical structure  of  flesh  and  bones  (Matt.  x.  28 ;  1  Cor.  xii. 
14),  and  so  the  natural  physical  life  in  this  world,  the  taber- 
nacle of  the  soul,  the  locus  and  vehicle  of  earthly  activity 
(2  Cor.  V.  6,  10);  and  then  by  a  natural  transition  it  is  em- 
ployed by  Paul  to  represent  tlie  unregenerate,  sinful  nature, 
as  opposed  to  the  higher  life  of  the  spirit:  "If  by  the  spirit 
you  kill  the  deeds  of  the  body,  you  shall  live"  (liom. 
viii.  13). 

"  Flesh "  occurs  in  the  simple  physical  sense  (1  Pet.  iv. 
1),  and  then  as  equivalent  to  humanity,  that  is,  human  na- 
ture :  Christ  was  an  Israelite  "as  concerning  the  flesh  "  (Eom. 
ix.  5) ;  the  Word  became  flesh  and  dwelt  in  the  world  (John 
i.  M),  the  combination  "flesh  and  blood"  having  the  same 
sense  (Matt.  xvi.  17 ;  Cal.  i.  16) ;  "  all  flesh  "  means  the  whole 
human  race  (John  xvii.  2,  and  the  similar  expression  "no 
flesh  "  in  1  Cor.  i.  29).  As  the  instrument  of  the  appetites, 
and  distinguished  by  its  grossness  from  the  spirit,  it  is  used 
by  Paul  and  his  school  to  signify  the  animal  life  as  the  seat 


1  "Eeins"  is  similarly  employed  (Jer.  xi.  20;  Vs.  Ixxiii.  21  ;  and  once  in 
the  New  Testament,  Eev.  ii.  23,  tlie  expression  being  quoted  from  the  Old 
Testament).  The  bowels  are  the  seat  of  love  and  the  desire,  compassion,  and 
sorrow  that  spring  from  love  (Song  of  Songs  v.  4 ;  Gen.  xliii.  30;  Jer.  iv.  19  ; 
Phil.  ii.  1),  or  even  (in  the  New  Testament,  2  Cor.  vi.  12)  of  the  affections  in 
general ;  they  are  regarded  also  as  the  source  whence  life  issues  (Gen.  xv.  4), 
and  so  the  loins  (Gen.  xxxv.  11;  Heb.  vii.  10).  "Liver"  (in  Babylonian- 
Assyrian  equivalent  to  "heart")  is  used  once  (Lam.  ii.  11)  for  the  seat  of 
the  inward  life.  It  was  the  prominent  organs  of  the  trunk  that  the  ancients 
connected  with  life  ;  the  word  "  brain  "  does  not  occur  in  the  Old  Testament ; 
in  Arabic,  madmug,  "struck  on  the  brain,"  is  "stupid." 
12 


178  CONSTITUTION   OF   MAN. 

of  sin,  the  unregeiierate  nature :  in  Eom.  viii.,  it  is  termed 
"sinful,"  is  contrasted  with  the  spirit  as  the  seat  of  the 
higher  life ;  the  mind  of  the  flesh  is  said  to  be  enmity  against 
God,  and  they  who  live  after  the  flesh  must  die ;  the  "  works 
of  the  flesh,"  all  soits  of  wrong-doing,  are  detailed  in  Gal.  v. 
19-21;  the  spirit  and  the  flesh  are  described  as  antagonists 
one  to  the  other  (v.  17),  and  "they  that  are  of  Christ  Jesus 
have  crucified  the  flesh  with  its  passions  and  desires"  (v. 
24) ;  all  unbelievers  live  in  the  desires  of  the  flesh  and  of 
natural  human  thought  (Eph.  ii.  3;  Col.  ii.  11);  Paul  uses 
the  word  also  of  an  unspiritual  religion,  especially  of  the 
Jewish  reliance  on  the  Law:  "Did  you  receive  the  Spirit 
by  the  works  of  the  Law  or  by  the  hearing  of  faith  ?  Are 
you  so  foolish?  Having  begun  in  the  spirit,  are  you  now 
perfected  in  the  flesh  ? "  (Gal.  iii.  2,  3.) 

"Heart"  is  the  whole  inward  nature:  the  Evil  One  snatches 
away  the  word  of  the  kingdom,  which  has  been  sown  in  the 
heart  (Matt.  xiii.  19);  the  Devil  put  into  the  heart  of  Judas 
to  betray  Jesus  (John  xiii.  2) ;  men,  after  their  hardness  and 
impenitent  heart  treasure  up  for  themselves  wrath  in  the 
day  of  wrath  (Rom.  ii.  5),  and  with  the  heart  man  believes 
unto  righteousness  (Rom.  x.  10),  the  act  of  believing  involv- 
ing all  the  powers  of  the  mind,  —  thought,  feeling,  and  will. 

"Soul"  is  equivalent  to  "life"  in  Matt.  x.  39:  "He  that 
finds  his  soul  shall  lo.se  it,  and  he  that  loses  his  soul  for  my 
sake  shall  find  it;"  and  ]\Latt.  xvi.  26  :  "What  is  a  man  prof- 
ited if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and  forfeit  his  soul  ? "  and 
to  "person"  in  Rom.  xiii.  1  :  "Let  every  soul  be  in  subjection 
to  the  higher  powers."  It  signifies  the  wliole  inward  nature 
in  James  i.  21  :  the  word  is  able  to  save  men's  souls ;  and  in 
John  xii.  27 :  "  Now  is  my  soul  troubled,  and  what  shall  I 
say  ? " 

"Spirit"  is  the  breath  of  the  natural  life  (Luke  viii.  55), 
or  a  disembodied  existence  (Luke  xxiv.  37-39).    It  represents 


CONSTITUTION   OF   MAN.  179 

the  inward  nature  in  Mark  viii.  12:  "He  sighed  deeply  in 
his  spirit"  (or  it  may  here  mean  the  personality  itself),  and 
1  Cor.  V.  3 :  "  Absent  in  body  but  present  in  spirit ; "  in  the 
eighth  chapter  of  llomans  it  is  used  frequently  for  the  in- 
ward spiritual  life  created  by  Christ  and  the  Holy  Spirit ; 
the  spirit  and  its  mind  are  put  over  against  the  liesh  and 
its  mind  (vs.  4,  5,  6,  9,  10). 

The  New  Testament  uses  the  word  "  mind  "  {vov<;)  in  the 
same  general  sense  for  the  reflective  faculty,  or  for  the  whole 
inward  being.  It  is  the  intellect  in  Luke  xxiv.  45,  where 
Jesus  opens  the  minds  of  the  disciples  to  understand  the 
scriptures  ;  in  1  Cor.  ii.  16,  it  signifies  the  thought-content  of 
the  intellect :  we,  says  the  apostle,  have  the  mind  of  Christ ; 
that  is,  we  have  come  into  possession  of  his  thought,  which 
is  the  expression  of  his  complete  comprehension  of  the  divine 
purpose.  In  the  quotation  from  the  Septuagint  in  the  same 
verse,  the  "  mind"  is  the  rendering  of  the  Hebrew  word  for 
"  spirit,"  the  two  being  here  identical  in  meaning.  Paul  em- 
ploys the  term  usually  in  a  moral-religious  sense  for  the  rea- 
son and  will,  tainted  or  untainted  by  sin.  Thus  in  Eom.  vii. 
23,  25,  it  is  the  normal  human  judgment,  which  approves  the 
right,  and  the  normal  human  will,  which  desires  to  obey  it, 
though  both  are  overpowered  by  the  "  flesh,"  the  corrupt  na- 
ture, in  which  dwells  the  love  of  evil :  he  delights  in  the  law 
of  God,  but  there  is  another  law  in  his  nature  warring  against 
this  law  of  his  "  mind  "  and  bringing  him  into  captivity  to 
the  law  of  sin.  Elsewhere  the  mind  is  described  as  reprobate 
(the  heathen,  Eom.  i.  28),  fleshly,  —  that  is,  reason  and  will 
controlled  by  the  lower  nature  (Col.  ii.  18),  —  defiled  (Tit.  i 
15,  where  it  is  combined  with  "  conscience,"  as  if  the  two 
were  practically  identical). 

It  is  evident  from  this  survey  that  the  terms  "  body"  and 
"  flesh  "  are  practically  synonymous  in  both  Testaments,  and 
the  same  thing  is  true  of  "  heart,"  "  soul,"  and  "  spirit."     The 


180  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN. 

number  of  passages  in  the  New  Testament  in  which  the  ex- 
pressions "soul  and  body,"  "spirit  and  body,"  "spirit  and 
flesh "  are  employed  to  denote  the  whole  of  human  nature 
shows  that  its  constitution  was  conceived  of  as  dual ;  and 
further  it  is  evident  that  "  spirit "  and  "  soul "  are  used  inter- 
changeably, each  as  standing  for  the  whole  inward  nature. 
With  this  usage  so  clearly  defined  we  can  hardly  accept  the 
supposition  of  a  trichotomy  of  spirit,  soul,  and  body  in  the 
sense  that  the  spirit  forms  a  distinct  essence  from  the  soul. 
It  is  true  that  Paul  employs  the  terms  "  spirit "  and  "  spirit- 
ual" in  a  peculiar  way  to  express  the  regenerate  nature, —  the 
soul  of  man  after  a  new  life  has  been  breathed  into  it  by  the 
divine  spirit.     It  is  a  distinction  which  seems  to  be  confined 
in  the  New  Testament  to  him  and  his  school.     His  choice  of 
the  word  "  spirit "  to  express  the  higher  life  which  was  in- 
formed by  Christ  may  have  been  suggested  by  his  conception 
of  its  relation  to  the  divine  spirit ;  it  is  possible,  however, 
that  some  distinction  between  the  terms  "  spirit  "  and  "  soul," 
though  not  one  of  essence,  had  already  sprung  up  and  was 
adopted  and  applied  by  him  in  this  peculiar  way.^     The  dis- 
tinction in  his  mind  is  brought  out  in  1  Cor.  xv.  44,  45  :  "  It 
is  sown  a  psychical  body,  it  is  raised  a  pneumatical  body ;  if 
there  is  a  psychical  body,  there  is  also  a  pneumatical ;  so  also 
it   is  written,  the  first    man   Adam    became   a   living   soul 
[psyche],  the  last  Adam  a  life-giving  spirit  [pneuma]."     The 
psychical  body  is  that  wherein  dwells  the  natural,  unregener- 
ate  soul ;  the  pneumatical  body  is  that  which  is  prepared  to 
be  the  dwelling  of  the  regenerated  soul,  —  the  spirit  which 
has  been  touched  by  the  hand  of  God.    The  difference  between 
Adam  and  Christ  is  that  tlie  former  was  created  as  a  soul 
endowed  with  life,  the  latter  was  a  spirit  capable  of  giving 
life.     The  distinction  of  soul  and  spirit  is  not  one  between 

1  On  tho  use  of  thoso  aivl  tlio  related  terms  in  the  Septnagint  and  by 
Philo,  see  E.  Hatcli,  "  Essays  in  BibUcal  Greek  "  (Oxford,  1889),  Essay  III. 


CONSTITUTION   OF  MAN.  181 

different  parts  of  human  nature :  Adam's  soul  was  capable  of 
becoming  spirit ;  Christ's  soul  was  spirit.  It  is  a  moral- 
religious,  not  a  substantive  distinction  that  the  apostle  has  in 
mind.  The  same  distinction  is  found  in  1  Cor.  xiv.  15  :  "  The 
psychical  man  does  not  receive  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of 
God,  for  they  are  foolishness  to  him ;  and  he  cannot  know 
them  because  they  are  pneumatically  judged,  but  the  pneu- 
matical  man  judges  all  things."  He  has  been  speaking  of  the 
wisdom  of  the  Gospel  as  contrasted  with  human  science  and 
philosophy,  declaring  that  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  of  God 
comes  to  believers  not  by  their  own  reflection,  but  by  revela- 
tion of  the  divine  spirit,  and  he  then  adds  the  words  quoted 
above ;  it  is  evident  that  he  uses  "  psychical "  in  the  sense  of 
unbelieving  or  unregenerate,  and  "  pneumatical "  in  the  oppo- 
site sense.  The  one  phase  passes  into  the  other  through  the 
influence  of  the  spirit  of  God;  a  transformation  is  effected  in 
human  nature,  but  there  is  no  change  of  essence. 

When,  therefore,  we  find  the  nature  of  man  described  as 
"spirit  and  soul  and  body"  (1  Thess.  v.  23),  the  natural  un- 
derstanding is  that  the  distinction  between  the  two  first  ele- 
ments is  religious-rhetorical  and  not  one  of  essence ;  the 
soul  is  first  thought  of  as  the  seat  of  the  inward  life,  and  then 
the  word  "  spirit "  is  added,  not  as  an  independent  compo- 
nent of  human  nature,  but  as  expressing  clearly  that  trans- 
formed state  of  the  soul  in  which  it  comes  into  the  higher 
relation  with  God  through  faith  in  Jesus  Christ.  It  might 
seem,  however,  that  a  substantive  distinction  between  the 
two  is  expressed  in  Heb.  iv.  12 :  "  The  word  of  God  is  liv- 
ing and  active  and  sharper  than  any  two-edged  sword,  and 
piercing  even  to  the  dividing  of  soul  and  spirit,  of  both  joints 
and  marrow,  and  a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of 
the  heart."  But  it  is  to  be  observed  that  this  passage  is 
rhetorical  in  its  tone,  and  is  therefore  not  to  be  interpreted 
in  a  strictly  scientific  v/ay.     It  is  easily  supposable  that  the 


]82  CONSTITUTION  OF   MAN. 

writer  had  in  mind  the  idea  of  Paul,  whose  theology  he  so 
largely  adopts,  and  thought  of  the  soul  and  spirit  as  different 
phases  and  states  of  mind  ;  from  this  point  of  view,  he  would 
naturally  speak  of  a  division  made  by  the  divine  word  of  the 
Gospel  between  the  natural,  unregenerate  life  and  thought 
and  that  higher  perception  and  feeling  which  arise  from  the 
transforming  power  of  God.  Since  these  two  passages  admit 
of  a  natural  explanation  on  the  basis  of  a  dual  conception  of 
human  nature,  it  is  hardly  safe  to  deduce  a  trichotomy  from 
them  against  all  other  New  Testament  usage. 

This  is,  however,  a  point  of  secondary  importance  in  the 
statement  of  Christian  doctrine.  What  is  essential  and 
characteristic  in  the  Christian  view  is  the  idea  of  a  new 
perceptive  power  in  man,  the  development  of  his  nature 
into  a  capacity  for  comprehension  of  God  and  fellowship 
with  him.  This  idea  has  its  roots  in  the  Old  Testament, 
but  receives  its  perfect  shape  only  in  the  Christian  literature 
of  the  first  century.  The  completer  organization  of  the 
inward  nature  flowed  naturally  from  the  strict  Pauline 
Christian  conception  of  divine  truth  and  mans  individual 
independence.  Not  only,  it  was  held,  had  God  revealed 
himself  in  a  peculiarly  definite  manner  in  the  person  of 
his  Son,  but,  in  contrast  with  the  national  coloring  of  the 
Jewish  faith,  the  divine  spirit  informed  and  communed 
with  each  believer's  soul  and  impressed  on  each  its  own 
personality  (Gal.  iii.  3 ;  1  Cor.  iii.  16 ;  Eom.  viii.  2)  This 
intimate  association  between  the  human  soul  and  the  divine 
demanded  in  the  former  an  instrument  fit  to  receive  the 
influence  of  the  latter.^ 

1  The  immediately  preceding  Jewish  literature  offers  little  material  for 
tracing  the  history  of  this  conception.  A  divine  influence  on  the  mind  is 
fully  affirmed  in  Wisdom  viii.,  but  nothing  is  said  distinctly  of  a  higher  faculty 
of  the  soul.  The  classic  writers  of  the  Augustan  period  employ  "  spirit  "  in 
the  senses  of  "  life,  soul,  courage ;  "  the  New  Testament  writers  think  of  a 
mental  power  that  apprehends  divine  things. 


SIN   AND    KiGIiTEUUSNKSS.  183 

2.  The  question  of  the  constitution  of  man's  nature  may 
be  said  to  be  chiefly  a  scientific  and  non-moral  one ;  the 
principle  of  the  division  of  human  nature  into  its  parts  is 
not  in  itself  ethical.  The  more  important  inquiry  is,  what 
is  man's  natural  moral  condition,  his  attitude  toward  right, 
his  capacity  for  right-doing?  What  is  the  Jewish  conception 
of  sin  ? 

That  wrong-doing  is  natural  and  universal  is  matter  of 
common  observation,  —  an  opinion  that  has  doubtless  been 
held  among  all  communities  of  men  with  greater  or  less 
distinctness.  Wherever  a  standard  of  right  exists  (and  we 
may  assume  that  it  exists  among  all  men,  even  in  the  most 
undeveloped  societies),  deviations  from  it  must  occur  and 
be  known;  and  these  deviations  constitute  sin.  In  them- 
selves, considered  as  violations  of  human  rule,  they  are  only 
ethical  wrongs ;  but  inasmuch  as  the  deity  is  identified  with 
the  ethical  ideal  of  the  community  and  becomes  the  judge 
of  right  and  wrong,  moral  offences  are  considered  to  be 
committed  against  him,  and  in  this  character  are  termed 
sinful.  The  offences  are  at  first  of  the  simplest  sort,  viola- 
tion of  customs  among  men,  or  of  ritual  duties  toward  God. 
The  progress  of  ethical  thought  involves  a  corresponding 
progress  in  the  conception  of  sin.  Duties  are  more  clearly 
defined,  the  higher  qualities  of  the  soul  —  sympathy,  love, 
self-sacrifice,  inwardness  —  become  more  and  more  prominent, 
and  their  absence  is  more  distinctly  noted  as  a  lack,  an 
offence  against  the  command  of  God.  The  conception  of 
the  divine  perfectness  goes  hand  and  hand  with  that  of 
human  goodness.  The  purer  and  more  spiritual  the  idea 
of  God,  the  deeper  the  sense  of  the  violation  of  his  will, 
which  is  one  with  man's  highest  conception  of  right. 

The  two  elements  in  the  content  of  the  feeling  of  sin 
are,  first,  the  ethical  standard,  and  secondly,  inwardness  or 
spiritualness ;  that  is,  the  feeling  of  the  necessity  of  purity 


184  SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

of  soul,  of  the  elevation  and  renewal  of  the  inward  nature 
so  that  it  shall  be  in  complete  sympathy  and  harmony  with 
the  good,  and  with  God  as  the  ideal  and  source  of  the  good. 
Jewish  thought  of  the  period  after  Ezra  shows  a  great  ad- 
vance in  this  direction.  The  time  of  the  Judges  and  of 
David  is  one  of  moral  rawness :  the  ethical  standard  is  low ; 
the  rules  of  right  conduct  are  outward  and  mechanical;  and 
of  a  sense  of  sin,  in  the  higher  meaning  of  the  expression, 
there  is  no  trace.^  The  prophetic  writings,  from  the  eiglith 
century  on,  are  ethically  strict  and  high,  except  that  they 
do  not  recognize  claims  of  foreigners,  but  confine  the  circle 
of  their  moral  obligations  to  Israel,  and  that  little  promi- 
nence is  given  to  the  inward  life ;  the  rebuke  of  the  prophets 
is  directed  against  idolatry,  neglect  of  Yahwe,  drunkenness, 
the  oppression  of  the  poor  by  the  rich,  and  other  external 
sins.  Their  point  of  view  is  national ;  they  look  on  the 
individual  almost  exclusively  as  a  member  of  the  nation, 
and  are  roused  to  anger  by  those  offences  which  violate  the 
compact  between  God  and  the  people,  deprive  them  of  his 
favor  and  protection,  and  retard  their  progress  toward  the 
condition  of  complete,  blessed  prosperity.  A  turning-point 
is  marked  by  the  Deuteronomist,  Jeremiah,  and  Ezekiel, 
who  announce  the  principles  of  individual  responsibility  and 
inwardness  of  obedience.  The  incompleteness  of  the  notion 
of  sin  which  had  prevailed  up  to  this  time  is  exhibited  in 
the  principle  of  solidarity  which  so  largely  controlled  men's 
moral  ideas :  children's  teeth  were  set  on  edge  because  their 
fathers  had  eaten  sour  grapes ;  Achan's  family  was  involved 
in  the  punishment  of  his  sin  (Josh.  vii.  24,  25);  and  the 
Decalogue  declares   that  Yahwe  is  a  jealous   God,  visiting 

1  The  episode  given  in  2  Sam.  xii.  1-14,  the  rebuke  of  Nathan  and 
David's  repentance,  is  so  out  of  keeping  with  the  tone  of  the  context  that 
it  must  he  put  into  the  same  category  with  2  Sam.  vii.,  and  regarded  as  a 
production  not  of  David's  time,  but  of  a  later,  perhaps  the  Deuteronomic 
period. 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  185 

the  iniquity  of  the  fathers  upon  the  chiklren  aud  on  the 
third  and  fourth  generation  of  them  that  hate  him  (Deut.  v. 
9).  And  this  theory  of  punisliment  was  held  not  in  the 
modern  form,  according  to  which  children  hy  the  operation 
of  natural  law  inherit  the  consequences  of  the  sins  of  an- 
cestors, hut  in  a  mechanical  way  which  represented  God  in 
his  capacity  of  judge  as  arbitrarily  punishhig  the  descend- 
ants of  evil-doers.  It  was  the  survival  of  a  primitive  con- 
ception of  society  in  which  the  unit  was  the  tribe  or  tlie 
family ;  ^  it  was  banished  by  the  better  development  of  the 
moral  sense  which  recognized  the  rights  and  responsibilities 
of  the  individual  (Ezek.  xviii.  2-4).  In  the  same  way,  the  ex- 
ternal and  mechanical  conception  of  obedience  and  sin  which 
belonged  to  the  national  point  of  view  disappeared  before  the 
rise  of  a  higher  estimation  of  the  individual  soul.  It  was 
just  before  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  by  the  Chaldeans 
that  this  purer  conception  found  expression  in  Israelitish 
literature;  from  which  we  may  infer  that  the  ethical  pro- 
gress since  David's  time  had  been  continuous,  in  spite  of 
the  religious  oscillations  and  defections  described  in  the 
book  of  Kings,  whose  narrative,  it  must  be  remembered, 
reflects  the  ideas  of  the  exile  rather  than  the  exact  his- 
torical course  of  events.  The  national  conception  continued 
to  exist  for  a  long  time,  but  the  new  ideals  had  effected 
an  entrance  into  Jewish  life  and  held  their  place. 

The  principal  ethical  fact  in  the  post-exilian  period  is  the 
introduction  of  the  complete  Levitical  legislation.     In  Tales- 

1  As  all  the  memhers  of  a  family  or  clan  were  holfl  to  ho  literally  of  the 
same  blood,  the  ])rinc'iple  of  solidarity  was  logically  conceived  in  a  thorongh- 
going  literal  sense  ;  from  this  point  of  view  it  was  natnral  that  all  the  trilies- 
men  should  share  the  fortunes  of  a  brother,  and  especially  of  a  chief.  This 
idea  survived  in  religion  after  it  had  vanished  from  the  legal  codes ;  an  exilian 
or  post-exilian  editor  represents  the  whole  Israelitish  nation  as  suffering  for 
the  sin  of  its  king  (2  Sam.  xxiv.),  and  in  certain  systems  of  Christian  theology 
the  human  race  is  involved  in  the  condemnation  of  the  first  man. 


186  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

tine  the  interval  between  the  return  from  Babylon  and  the 
advent  of  Ezra  and  Nehemiah  was  almost  entirely  color- 
less, so  far  as  our  information  goes,  in  regard  to  the  progress 
of  morals  and  religion.  The  Jews  in  Palestine  were  ab- 
sorbed in  other  things,  struggling  for  bread,  lacking  in  high 
literary  and  religious  stimulus ;  the  flower  of  the  nation  was 
in  Babylonia,  and  Palestine  was  in  a  state  of  comparative 
stagnation.  No  doubt  there  was  some  progress ;  but  there 
is  little  or  no  sign  of  it.  "With  Ezra  and  Nehemiah  came 
a  new  impulse.  It  might  seem  doubtful,  however,  whether 
the  introduction  of  the  finished  Law  was  an  unmixed  good 
from  the  ethical  point  of  view.  The  code  was  largely  ritual- 
istic; it  fixed  men's  minds  on  ceremonial  details  which  it 
in  some  cases  put  into  the  same  category  and  on  the  same 
level  with  moral  duties.  Would  there  not  thence  result 
a  dimming  of  the  moral  sense,  and  a  confusion  of  moral 
distinctions  ?  The  ethical  attitude  of  a  man  who  could  re- 
gard a  failure  in  the  routine  of  sacrifice  as  not  less  blame- 
worthy than  an  act  of  theft  cannot  be  called  a  lofty  one. 
If  such  had  been  the  general  effect  of  the  ritual  law,  we 
should  have  to  pronounce  it  an  evil.  But  in  point  of  fact, 
the  result  was  different.  What  may  be  called  the  natural 
debasing  tendency  of  a  ritual  was  counteracted  by  other 
influences,  by  the  ethical  elements  of  the  law  itself,  and  by 
the  general  moral  progress  of  the  community.  The  great 
legal  schools  which  grew  up  in  the  second  century,  if  we 
may  judge  by  the  sayings  of  the  teachers  which  have  come 
down  to  us,  did  not  fail  to  discriminate  between  the  out- 
ward and  the  inward,  the  ceremonial  and  the  moral;  and 
the  conception  of  sin  corresponded  to  the  idea  of  the  ethical 
standard. 

I"  It  is  in  the  book  of  Psalms  that  we  find  the  fullest  picture 
of  the  inward  religious  experiences  of  this  period  from  the 
exile  on.     We  are  not,  indeed,  to  understand  every  expres- 


SIX   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  187 

sion  of  suffering  aud  every  cry  fur  help  in  the  Psalter  as  an 
indication  of  a  sense  of  sin.  Nor  can  we  always  say  cer- 
tainly what  that  iniquity  is  which  a  psalmist  imputes  to 
himself.  The  author  of  Psalm  xxxi.  regards  his  misfortunes 
apparently  as  the  result  of  his  sin :  "  My  life  is  consumed 
with  sorrow  and  my  years  with  sighing ;  my  strength  fails 
Ijecause  of  my  iniquity;  and  my  bones  are  wasted  away" 
(v.  10) ;  but  at  the  same  time,  he  can  declare  that  he  has 
trusted  in  God  (v.  14),  that  he  hates  those  who  regard  lying 
vanities  (v.  6),  and  that  he  belongs  in  the  category  of  the 
righteous  (v.  18).  The  same  seeming  contradiction  occurs 
in  Ps.  xxxviii.  3,  20,  and  Ps.  Ixi.x.  6,  8,  14 ;  the  psalmist  ac- 
knowledges his  sin,  yet  claims  to  follow  what  is  good.  In 
Ps.  XXV.  7,  the  "  sins  of  youth "  are  apparently  half-uncon- 
scious, unmalignant  offences,  perhaps  opposed  to  the  more 
conscious  and  definite  "  transgressions."  In  some  cases  the 
external,  national  point  of  view  is  obvious,  as  in  Ixxxv.  1,  2 : 
"Thou  wast  favorable  to  thy  land,  didst  bring  back  the 
captivity  of  Jacob,  didst  forget  the  iniquity  of  thy  people." 
Yet  with  all  these  elements  of  doubt,  it  is  hard  to  resist 
the  impression  that  we  have  in  some  of  the  Psalms  a  true 
spiritual  conception  of  sin  as  an  impurity  of  soul  which 
makes  a  barrier  between  it  and  God.  In  Psalm  li.  we  have 
a  complete  combination  aud  fusion  of  the  religious  and 
ethical  sides  of  the  consciousness  of  sin :  the  writer,  in 
his  overwhelming  sense  of  the  divine  presence  and  purity, 
isolates  himself  from  his  human  surroundings  and  looks 
to  God  as  the  sole  being  concerned  with  his  sin :  "  Against 
thee,  thee  only  have  I  sinned,  and  done  that  which  is  evil 
in  thine  eyes,  that  thou  mightest  be  justified  when  thou 
speakest  and  be  clear  when  thou  judgest.  .  .  .  Hide  thy  face 
from  my  sins  and  blot  out  all  my  iniquities  "  (vs.  4,  9) ;  ^  at 

1  That  is,  his  feeling  is  uot  that  he  is  absolutely  innocent  with  respect  to 
men,  but  that  he  is  blameworthy  with  respect  to  God,  —  such  is  the  suggestion 
of  the  context. 


188  S;iN   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

the  same  time,  he  longs  for  purity  and  inward  truth  as  the 
result  of  banishment  of  sin;  he  desires  to  be  whiter  than 
snow  when  his  heart  shall  have  been  made  clean  (vs.  2,  6,  7). 
The  psalm  is  apparently  a  cry  out  of  the  time  of  the  exile 
(or  perhaps  later),  laden  with  the  sense  of  suffering  of  that 
period;  yet  the  writer,  though  he  may  speak  as  a  member 
of  the  downcast  nation,  has  nevertheless  an  individual  sense 
of  sin,  is  persuaded  that  his  own  afiiiction  has  its  roots  in 
his  deep-seated  transgression ;  he  is  so  profoundly  conscious 
of  his  moral  weakness  and  his  shortcomings  before  God  that 
he  turns  from  the  outward  fact  of  suffering  to  fix  his  atten- 
tion exclusively  on  the  impurity  of  his  own  heart.  This 
humble  consciousness  of  imperfection  he  declares  to  be  the 
best  sacrifice  that  can  be  offered  to  God  (v.  17);  but  this 
fact  does  not  diminish  the  reality  of  his  sen.se  of  personal 
sin.  The  sentiment  of  Psalm  xxxii.  is  less  clear:  "I  ac- 
knowledge my  sin  to  thee,  and  cover  not  my  iniquity;  I 
said,  I  will  confess  my  transgressions  to  Yahwe,  and  tliou 
tookest  away  the  guilt  of  my  sin  "  (v.  5).  It  is  the  physical 
suffering  which  follows  sin  that  the  psalmist  seems  to  be 
thinking  of  (v.  6),  in  reference  to  which  he  says:  "Happy  is 
he  whose  transgression  is  forgiven,  whose  sin  is  covered; 
happy  the  man  to  whomx  Yahwe  does  not  reckon  iniciuity" 
(v.  1),  —  happy  because  he  escapes  the  con.sequences  of  sin; 
but  the  ethical  side  is  present  in  his  mind,  for  he  describes 
this  happy  man  as  one  in  whose  spirit  there  is  no  guile 
(v.  1). 

By  the  side  of  this  consciousness  of  sin  in  the  Psalms, 
there  is,  curiously  enough,  a  pronounced  consciousness  of 
righteousness.  "  Continue  thy  loving  kindness  to  them  that 
know  thee,  and  thy  righteousness  to  the  upriglit  in  heart ;  let 
not  the  foot  of  pride  come  upon  tnc,"  says  a  writer  who 
evidently  regards  himself  as  upright  in  heart  (xxxvi.  10). 
Another  psalmist,  assailed  by  mighty  enemies,  declares  that 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  189 

it  is  for  no  sin  or  transgression  of  his  (lix.  3).  The  author 
of  Psalm  xviii.  formulates  this  view  very  distinctly :  '' Yahwe 
dealt  with  me  according  to  my  righteousness,  according  to 
the  purity  of  my  hands  he  recompensed  me ;  because  I  kept 
the  ways  of  Yahwe  and  did  not  wickedly  depart  from  my 
God,  for  all  his  ordinances  were  before  me,  and  his  statutes 
I  did  not  put  away  from  me ;  and  I  was  perfect  with  him, 
and  kept  myself  from  iniquity  ;  and  Yahwe  recompensed  me 
according  to  my  righteousness,  according  to  the  purity  of  my 
hands  in  his  eyesight"  (vs.  20-24).  This  seems  to  be  an 
extraordinary  assumption  of  moral  perfectness,  hard  to  recon- 
cile with  any  true  sense  of  sin.  The  difficulty  seems  to  be 
increased  when  the  writer  proceeds  to  formulate  a  general 
theory  respecting  -God's  relations  and  dealings  with  men : 
"  With  the  merciful  thou  showest  thyself  merpiful,  with  the 
perfect,  perfect,  with  the  pure,  pure,  and  with  the  wayward, 
wayward"  (vs.  25,  26).  It  is  a  natural  conception  that  God's 
attitude  toward  man  should  be  determined  by  man's  moral 
character ;  but  this  complete  assimilation  of  the  divine  and 
human  attributes,  unless  it  be  a  poetical  exaggeration,  seems 
to  be  based  on  a  somewhat  mechanical  conception  of  the 
relation  between  God  and  man.  But  the  explanation  is 
given  in  the  next  verse :  "'  Thou  savest  lowly  people,  and 
haughty  eyes  thou  dost  abase "  (v.  27).  It  is  the  nation 
Israel  that  the  writer  has  in  mind ;  it  is  of  it  and  of  himself 
as  belonging  to  it  that  he  affirms  righteousness.  Similarly 
in  Psalm  xliv.  17,  18:  "All  this  is  come  upon  us,  yet  we 
have  not  forgotten  thee  nor  been  disloyal  to  thy  covenant ; 
our  heart  has  not  turned  back,  nor  have  our  steps  swerved 
from  thy  way."  This  explanation,  however,  brings  us  face 
to  face  with  the  fact  of  a  national  consciousness  of  innocence. 
The  Forty-Fourth  Psalm  belongs  to  the  latter  part  of  the 
Greek  period,  —  a  time  when  national  feeling  was  at  its  height. 
Syrian  oppression  had  intensified  the  national  sense  of  reli- 


190  SLN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

gious  isolation  and  superiority  in  contrast  with  the  heathen 
cults ;  the  temple- worship  assumed  especial  prominence  and 
importance ;  the  chief  duty  and  mission  of  the  nation  seemed 
to  be  the  maintenance  of  the  worship  of  the  God  of  Israel 
according  to  his  ordinances,  in  the  face  of  and  as  a  protest 
against  heathen  beliefs  and  ceremonies.  From  this  point  of 
view,  it  was  easy  to  feel  that  so  long  as  the  temple-ritual 
was  observed  with  precision  and  sincerity,  the  people  might 
justly  claim  to  be  righteous  in  the  sight  of  God  and  to  de- 
serve his  protection  and  blessing.  Such  a  national  sense  of 
innocence  might  also  become  individual;  any  man,  especially 
if  he  stood  in  close  connection  with  the  temple,  might  hold 
himself,  as  a  part  of  this  exemplary  nation,  to  merit  the 
divine  favor.  In  such  cases  there  may  have  been  also  the 
sense  of  individual  shortcomings,  but  it  would  without  great 
difficulty  be  swallowed  up  in  the  conviction  of  national 
innocence. 

We  have  thus  two  especially  prominent  aspects  of  the 
Jewish  consciousness  of  sin.  There  was,  doubtless,  a  third, 
—  a  superficial,  indistinct  sense  of  wrong-doing,  which  did  not 
greatly  afflict  the  soul  or  color  the  life.  The  psalmists  repre- 
sent the  intenser,  more  exalted  feeling  of  the  nation ;  the 
masses  of  the  people  were  comparatively  indifferent,  if  we 
may  judge  from  our  general  knowledge  of  human  nature 
and  from  hints  in  the  Old  Testament.  But  it  is  with  the 
higher  and  better-formulated  feeling  that  we  are  here  con- 
cerned. What  was  the  advanced  Jewish  view  respecting 
the  nature  of  sin  and  its  relation  to  man's  inward  being? 
The  literature  offers  no  complete  answer  to  this  question. 
Sin  is  taken  for  granted.  In  the  earlier  prophetic  writings 
it  is  regarded  as  a  habit,  or  as  a  mass  of  actions.  Even 
Ezekiel's  "  new  heart "  (Ezek.  xxxvi.  26)  is  concerned  chiefly 
with  external  things :  "  I  will  give  you  a  new  heart,  and  put 
a  new  spirit  within  you ;  I  will  take  away  the  stony  heart 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  191 

out  of  your  flesh  and  give  you  a  heart  of  flesh;  and  I  will 
put  my  spirit  within  you  and  cause  you  to  walk  in  my 
statutes,  and  you  shall  keep  my  ordinances  and  do  them; 
and  you  shall  dwell  in  the  land  that  I  gave  to  your  fathers, 
and  you  shall  be  my  people,  and  I  will  be  your  God "  (vs. 
26-28).  It  is  again  to  the  Psalter  that  we  must  come  for 
the  deeper  conception  of  sin.  But  even  here  we  have  no 
detailed  explanation  or  distinct  theory.  "  I  was  shapen  in 
iniquity,  born  in  sin,"  says  the  author  of  the  Fifty-First 
Psalm  (v.  5) ;  this  is  the  consciousness  of  a  tendency  to 
wrong-doing  from  the  beginning  of  life,  and  in  so  far  implies 
a  weakness,  a  moral  taint  in  human  nature.  Such  is  also 
the  conception  in  Jer.  xvii.  9 :  "  The  heart  is  deceitful 
above  all  things,  and  it  is  desperately  sick ;  who  can  know 
it  ? "  And  yet,  in  spite  of  the  universality  of  the  expression, 
the  prophet  seems  not  to  have  meant  to  affirm  a  total  de- 
pravity incapable  in  itself  of  doing  right,  for  he  adds  imme- 
diately (v.  10):  "I,  Yahwe,  search  the  heart,  try  the  reins, 
to  give  every  man  according  to  his  ways,  according  to  the 
fruit  of  his  doings."  The  possibility  of  right-doing  and  of 
consequent  reward  from  God  is  here  assumed.  This  pre- 
supposition that  man  is  capable  of  achieving  righteousness, 
of  attaining  perfectness,  runs  throughout  the  Old  Testament; 
human  nature  is  portrayed  as  weak,  as  inclined  to  evil,  but 
not  as  morally  impotent.  Ezekiel,  in  his  great  appeal  to 
Israel  to  return  to  God  and  to  righteousness  (ch.  xviii.),  as- 
sumes the  ability  of  the  sinner  to  put  away  his  sin  :  "  If 
the  wicked  turn  from  all  the  sins  he  has  committed,  and 
keep  all  my  statutes,  and  do  that  which  is  lawful  and  right, 
he  shall  surely  live,  he  shall  not  die  ;  none  of  his  transgres- 
sions that  he  has  committed  shall  be  remembered  against 
him.  In  his  righteousness  that  he  has  done,  he  shall  live  " 
(vs.  21,  22).  There  is  no  mention  of  special  divine  help 
here  ;  it  is  assumed  that  the  man  by  his  own  inward  power 


192  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

changes  bis  moral  status  in  the  sight  of  God.  Such  is  the 
prevaiUng  view  in  the  Old  Testament :  sin  is  universal,  but 
not  uncontrollable.  Even  in  the  greater  part  of  the  Psalter, 
the  root  of  man's  righteousness  is  in  his  own  heart ;  and  the 
same  thing  is  true  of  the  reflective  literature,  —  Job,  Proverbs, 
Ecclesiastes.  The  exception  is  found  in  the  Fifty-First  Psalm. 
It  is  the  utterance  of  a  man  who  felt  that  sin  was  ingrained  in 
his  inner  nature,  that  God,  who  desired  truth  in  the  inward 
parts,  must  make  him  to  know  wisdom,  that  he  had  need  of 
a  clean  heart  and  a  steadfast  spirit,  and  that  the  condition  of 
his  true  life  was  the  presence  within  him  of  that  holy  spirit 
which  God  only  could  bestow.  There  is  still  no  distinct 
affirmation  in  this  psalm  of  a  total  depravity  of  the  soul. 
There  is  a  deep  sense  of  inward  corruption  and  of  depen- 
dence on  God  for  righteousness,  which  might  logically  lead 
to  tlie  position  that  man  is  incapable  of  achieving  a  right- 
eousness of  his  own ;  but  we  cannot  assume  complete  logi- 
calness  in  emotional  religious  thought,  nor  suppose  that  this 
psalmist  meant  to  announce  a  general  theory.  He  stands 
alone  in  the  Old  Testament  in  his  conception  of  the  sinful- 
ness of  human  nature ;  no  prophet  and  no  other  psalmist 
has  expressed  this  spiritual  view  of  the  inward  religious  life. 
We  must  here  recognize  a  progress  in  the  Jewish  idea  of 
sin ;  the  Fifty-First  Psalm  contains  the  germ  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment teaching.  But  the  psalmist  appears  to  have  been  in 
advance  of  the  thought  of  liis  age.  The  conception  of  sin  in 
the  later  Jewish  books  —  such  as  Ecclesiastes,  the  Wisdom  of 
Solomon,  Ecclesiasticus,  Tobit,  Daniel,  Enoch,  the  Sibylline 
Oracles,  Maccabees  —  is  the  old  one,  which  may  be  called,  by 
comparison,  external,^  and  this  view  is  found  also  in  the  New 

1  Ecclesiastes  disapproves  of  sin  ns  irrational  (viii.  12  ;  x.  3)  ;  AVisdom  con- 
templates the  violence  of  tlic  wicked  (ii.)  and  the  wrong-doing  condemned  iu 
Ecclesiasticus  {passim)  is  of  the  outward  sort;  Tobit  and  Daniel  are  mainly 
national,  or,  wlicn  individual,  ritualistic  (Tob.  i.  10;  Dan.  i.  8)  ;  Enoch  and 
the  following  books  also  deal  with  sins  against  the  national  law  and  well- 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  193 

Testament;  for  example,  in  the  Epistle  of  James,  thongh  here 
it  is  somewhat  modified  by  Christian  teaching.  We  must, 
therefore,  regard  the  Old  Testament  as  teaching  not  tliat  sin 
is  a  nature,  but  that  it  is  a  tendency.  It  is  described  as  a 
weakness,  a  failure,  a  violent  outbreak,  a  perverseness,  or  as 
blindness  and  folly.  It  is  a  disposition  or  inclination  which 
constantly  impels  or  allures  men  to  wrong-doing  ;  it  is  not 
an  utter  incapacity  to  do  right.  It  is  an  enemy  ever  present, 
watchful,  alert,  but  not  invincible ;  it  can  be  overcome  by 
man's  own  effort.  Such  was  the  teaching  of  common  expe- 
rience. Ikit  deeper  natures,  like  the  author  of  Psalm  li., 
felt  that  this  perpetual  conflict  with  temptation  was  unsatis- 
factory, and  that  what  man  needed  was  freedom  from  evil 
inclination,  a  heart  in  harmony  with  the  right.  This  was 
the  view  of  the  minority  ;  the  mass  of  the  people  was  con- 
trolled by  the  nomistic  idea ;  sin  was  conceived  of  as  the  in- 
fringement of  particular  laws,  and  was  avoided  by  obedience 
in  details. 

A  careful  analysis  of  the  nature  of  sin  would  naturally  be 
attended,  one  would  suppose,  by  an  inquiry  as  to  its  origin. 
But  on  this  point  the  greater  part  of  the  Old  Testament  is 
profoundly  silent.  National  sin  is  assumed  by  the  prophets 
to  have  existed  from  the  beginning,  and  no  attempt  is  made 
to  account  for  its  introduction  ;  the  necessity  for  an  explana- 
tion of  so  common  a  fact  was  not  felt  by  the  practical  Jew- 
ish mind.  The  traditions  of  the  forefathers  preserved  in  the 
Pentateuch  tell  of  wrong-doing  in  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob, 
but  assume  it  as  natural,  and  show  no  curiosity  as  to  the 

being.  It  must,  however,  be  borne  in  mind  that  these  works,  b}^  their  subject- 
matter  and  aims,  would  naturally  dwell  on  the  outward  manifestations  of  evil, 
and  may  have  known  deeper  inward  experiences  than  they  express.  Further, 
the  existence  of  different  tendencies  and  modes  of  thought  in  different  circles 
must  be  recognized  ;  the  Tsalms  probably  represent  the  more  spiritual  thought 
of  the  nation  ;  wisdom-books  and  apocalypses  were  more  interested  in  other 
things. 

13 


194  SIN   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

source  of  the  wrong  dispositiou.  Abram  and  Isaac  are  guilty 
of  prevarication  which  amounts  to  falsehood  (Gen.  xii.  13 ; 
xxvi.  7) ;  Jacob  and  Rebekah  deceive  the  dim-eyed  old  Isaac 
(Gen.  xxvii.) ;  and  Jacob  deals  fraudulently  with  his  father- 
in-law  (Gen.  XXX.),  —  the  stories  arc  told  with  perfect  sim- 
plicity ;  no  explanation  is  felt  by  the  writer  to  be  needed, 
and  none  is  given. 

There  is,  however,  one  passage  which  appears  to  offer  a 
history  of  the  origin  of  human  sin ;  it  is  the  latter  half  of 
the  second  history  of  creation  (Gen.  iii.).  The  date  of  this 
passage  is  doubtful.  It  occurs  in  the  body  of  traditions 
(Gen.  i.-xi.),  which  are  sharply  distinguished  in  content  and 
tone  from  the  remainder  of  the  book  of  Genesis.  They  con- 
tain material  identical  with  what  we  know  existed  in  Baby- 
lonia and  Assyria,  notably  the  history  of  the  flood.  Perhaps 
the  most  natural  account  of  the  Hood-story  in  Genesis  is  that 
it  was  borrowed  from  the  Assyrians  or  Babylonians,  during 
or  shortly  before  the  exile  ;  on  the  hypothesis  that  it  was 
brought  by  the  Hebrews  with  them  from  the  Tigris-Euphrates 
valley  when  they  migrated  to  Canaan,  it  would  be  hard  to 
account  for  the  close  similarity  between  the  Chaldean  and 
biblical  flood-stories  (supposing  that  the  Hebrew  account 
was  not  committed  to  writing  till  many  centuries  later), 
since  in  each  nation  the  tradition  would  go  its  independent 
way,  and  the  two  would  presumably  diverge  considerably 
from  each  other ;  and  it  would  be  equally  hard  to  explain 
the  absence  of  all  allusion  to  the  great  catastrophe  in  the 
pre-exilian  literature.^     In  the  Assyrian-Babylonian  remains 

1  There  are  traces  of  different  recensions  in  the  Biihvlonian-Assyrian  ac- 
count, as  in  the  Hebrew.  Our  Yahwistic  and  Eloliistic  components  may  rep- 
resent narratives  derived  from  different  districts  in  Eahylonia,  or  the  latter 
may  be  in  part  or  wholly  a  later  .Jewish  redaction  of  the  material.  The  in- 
terval of  a  hundreil  and  fifty  years  between  the  arrival  of  the  exiles  in  Baby- 
lonia and  the  final  redaction  of  the  Pentateuch  would  allow  a  con.siderable 
re-workin;,'  of  the  story.     The  question,  however,  is  not  clear;  and  it  is  pos- 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  195 

there  are  fragments  of  other  narratives  which  are  parallel 
with  parts  of  the  material  in  Gen.  i.-xi. ;  for  example,  with  the 
cosmogony  and  the  story  of  the  Tower  of  Babel.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  in  the  serpent  of  Gen.  iii.  we  have  a  survival  of 
the  dragon  of  Babylonian  myth,  who  is  the  antagonist  of  the 
gods,  here  transformed  under  the  influence  of  the  Jewish 
monotheistic  faith,  and  woven  into  the  general  body  of  Jew- 
ish beliefs.  No  distinct  reference  to  the  story  is  found  else- 
where in  the  Old  Testament ;  ^  the  earliest  mention  of  the 
beginning  of  death  is  found  in  the  ^Yisdom  of  Solomon 
(ii.  24).  These  indications  point  to  a  late  date  for  the  present 
form  of  the  story  in  Genesis  ;  and  it  may  be  added  that  the 
broad  cosmopolitan  view  of  history  which  it  involves  belongs 
more  naturally  to  the  time  when  the  Jews  came  into  con- 
tact with  other  nations. 

But  though  the  story  of  the  temptation  of  man  by  the  serpent 
stands  thus  isolated  in  the  Old  Testament,  it  nevertheless  ex- 
ists, and  was,  as  we  know,  accepted  by  and  influential  in  the 
later  generations  of  Jewish  thinkers.  What  is  its  design  and 
significance  ?  The  first  human  pair  have  their  abode  in  a  de- 
lightful land  which  produces  no  thorns  or  thistles,  where  the 
beasts  are  obedient  to  man,  and  where  human  labor  is  only 

sible  that  the  Hebrews  brought  these  stories  with  them  from  Chaldea  at  a 
very  early  period. 

1  Ezekiel,  who  shows  elsewhere  traces  of  Babylonian  influence,  has  (xxviii.) 
a  description  of  the  Garden  of  Eden,  in  which  the  king  of  Tyre,  the  anointed 
cherub,  dwelt  till  he  sinned :  "  Thou  wast  perfect  in  thy  ways  from  the  day 
that  tliou  wast  created  till  unrighteousness  was  found  in  thee"  (v.  15).  It 
is  an  allusion  to  the  story  of  Adam,  Init  nothing  is  said  of  the  nature  and 
origin  of  the  sin  there  committed  (in  v.  16  he  has  iu  mind  the  commercial 
city).  The  prophet  treats  his  material  poetically,  but  his  imagery  shows  that 
he  was  acquainted  with  the  outline  of  the  history  in  Gen.  ii.  iii.  His  diver- 
gencies in  details  from  the  Genesis  narrative,  and  his  introduction  of  the 
Babylonian  sacred  mountain  of  the  gods  (v.  14)  seem  to  point  to  a  time 
when  the  story  had  not  yet  taken  shape  among  the  Jews  ;  and  this  fact  would 
favor  the  view  that  the  material  was  borrowed  by  them  during  the  exile,  and 
so  either  was  not  a  part  of  their  original  folk-lore,  or,  if  formerly  known  to 
them,  was  now  taken  afresh  from  their  neighbors. 


196  SIX  AND   EIGHTEOUSXESS. 

a  pleasant  activity.  There  is  a  tree  of  lii'e,  by  eating  the 
fruit  of  which  man  would  become  immortal.  One  moral 
test  is  ordained  for  him  :  he  is  forbidden  to  eat  of  the  fruit 
of  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  and  death  is  to 
be  the  penalty  of  disobedience.  The  animals  are  all  endowed 
with  power  of  speech,  and  of  them  the  serpent  is  the  subtlest. 
For  some  reason  not  explained  in  the  text  (according  to  the 
Wisdom  of  Solomon,  it  was  his  envy  of  man's  happiness  and 
possible  immortality)  he  suggested  to  the  woman  that  she 
and  the  man  should  eat  of  the  forbidden  fruit,  offering  the 
inducement  that  they  should  thus  be  made  equal  to  the 
Elohim-beings.  They  ate,  and  sentence  of  death  was  pro- 
nounced on  them ;  and  lest  they  should  eat  of  the  tree  of  life 
and  live  forever,  God  drove  them  out  of  Eden,  at  the  gate  of 
which  he  placed  the  cherubim  to  guard  the  approach  to  the 
tree.  What  was  the  effect,  in  the  conception  of  the  writer 
of  this  chapter,  of  man's  act  of  disobedience  ?  Was  it  the 
corruption  of  his  moral  nature,  the  entrance  of  sin  as  a 
power  into  the  world  ?  On  the  one  hand,  the  transgression 
of  the  divine  command  was  an  act  of  sin,  the  first,  as  far  as 
Jewish  records  go,  in  the  history  of  the  race.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  succeeding  history  in  Genesis  makes  no  refer- 
ence to  this  event,  and  shows  no  consciousness  of  a  dogma 
of  universal  and  total  depravity.  The  priestly  document 
(i.  v.,  and  parts  of  vi.-ix.)  seems  to  ignore  the  story  entirely; 
see,  for  example,  in  ch.  v.  the  continuous  development  from 
Adam  to  Xoah  (v.  29  is  an  insertion  from  another  source). 
And  in  the  prophetic  narrative,  Abel  and  Noah  are  righteous 
men  accepted  by  God  and  apparently  without  taint  of  sin. 
In  both  narratives,  indeed,  the  earth  is  described  as  having 
after  a  time  become  corrupt  before  God,  but  this  fact  is  not 
brought  into  connection  with  the  narrative  in  the  third 
chapter;  it  seems  rather  to  be  the  common  Old  Testament 
view  of  the  universality  of  sin,  which  is  the  result  of  expe- 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  197 

rience.  Moreover,  it  must  be  observed  that  in  this  chapter 
the  stress  is  hiid  on  certain  phenomena  of  life,  which  are 
explained  by  the  punishments  inflicted :  the  serpent  is  to  go 
on  his  belly,  eat  dust,  and  be  worsted  in  his  conflict  with 
man ;  the  man  and  the  woman  are  driven  from  a  delightful 
abode ;  the  earth  is  to  bring  forth  inedible  and  hurtful 
things  ;  the  woman  is  to  be  subject  to  great  bodily  suffering, 
and  is  to  be  subordinated  to  the  man  ;  the  man  is  to  gain 
his  bread  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow  and  to  return  to  the  dust 
out  of  which  he  was  made.  The  main  object  of  the  writer 
seems  to  be  to  account  for  the  existence  of  these  great  facts 
of  man's  experience,  —  birth,  toil,  death  ;  and  he  appends  an 
account  of  the  origin  of  clothing  (v.  21).^  Of  effect  on  man's 
inward  life  he  says  nothing ;  he  is  apparently  concerned  only 
with  some  outward  facts.  These  facts  he  brings  into  con- 
nection with  the  initial  act  of  human  disobedience  to  God, 
and  in  so  far  his  narrative  may  be  regarded  as  a  history  of 
the  origin  of  sin.  But  he,  like  the  other  Old  Testament 
writers,  really  takes  the  human  inclination  to  sin  for  granted. 
He  does  not  undertake  to  explain  by  what  inward  process 
the  woman  came  to  accept  the  serpent's  suggestion,  or  why 
the  man  decided  to  follow  the  woman's  example.  There  is 
no  hint  of  inward  conflict  either  in  the  woman  or  in  the  man  ; 
and  it  is  not  true,  as  is  so  often  said,  that  Adam  and  his  wife 
are  represented  as  in  a  state  of  childlike  moral  weakness  or 
ignorance.     It  was  only  by  eating  the  forbidden   fruit,  in- 

1  The  awakening  of  the  consciousness  of  nakedness  may  be  looked  on  as 
the  birth  of  shame,  the  natural  accompaniment  of  the  sense  of  sin  ;  this  would 
be  a  fine  psychological  touch  in  the  narrative.  But  it  is  doubtful  whether  the 
writer  had  in  mind  anything  more  than  the  unseemliness  which  every  tolera- 
bly advanced  civilization  attaches  to  nakedness.  The  first  pair,  as  a  result 
of  the  knowledge  acquired  by  eating  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree,  perceived,  he 
would  say,  the  indecency  of  their  position  ;  whence  this  sense  of  indecency 
comes,  he  does  not  say ;  and  we  may  suppose  that  our  author  attempted  in 
thought  no  precise  explanation  of  its  origin,  but  contented  himself  with  re- 
garding it,  like  toil,  as  a  part  of  the  heritage  of  civilized  life. 


198  SIX  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

deed,  that  they  attained  that  high  perception  of  good  and 
evil,  that  fine  power  of  distinguishing  and  selecting,  which 
equalled  them  with  the  Elohim-beings  (v.  22) ;  but  before 
this  they  had  been  intrusted  with  the  care  of  the  garden, 
and  are  represented  as  human  beings  of  normal  intelligence 
and  development.  Morally,  also,  they  appear  to  occupy  the 
normal  position  of  man.  Up  to  the  fatal  moment  of  the 
woman's  colloquy  with  the  serpent,  they  had  not  sinned  ;  but 
this  was  because  no  occasion  of  transgression  had  presented 
itself ;  at  any  moment  it  was  possible  for  them  to  choose  the 
wrong  rather  than  the  right.  In  a  word,  the  question  of  the 
origin  of  sin  was  remote  from  the  writer's  mind ;  he  chron- 
icled the  first  act  of  sin,  but  it  did  not  occur  to  him  tliat  any 
psychological  explanation  of  such  an  occurrence  was  needed. 
It  was  matter  of  common  experience  that  there  was  in  the 
human  soul  an  inclination  to  evil ;  and  in  this  respect  he  did 
not  think  of  the  first  man  as  different  from  his  posterity.^ 
A  sharp  temptation  presents  itself  to  Adam  and  Eve,  —  there 
is  the  prize  of  equality  with  the  divine  beings  to  be  gained  by 
one  act  of  disobedience ;  they  chose  to  risk  the  consequences 
of  disobedience.  Many  questions  of  psychological  interest 
present  themselves  to  the  modern  reader  of  this  story ;  but  it 
is  not  probable  that  any  of  these  were  in  the  mind  of  its 
author.  Did  he  regard  the  godlike  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil  as  a  misfortune,  and  the  desire  for  it  as  a  crime  ?  How 
could  man  incur  the  penalty  of  death  at  the  moment  that  he 
became  as  one  of  the  Elohim  ?  Is  labor,  like  knowledge,  to 
be  regarded  as  an  evil  ?  But  these  questions  have  really 
nothing  to  do  with  the  story.  For  the  explanation  of  its 
present  form  we  have  probably  to  go  first  to  the  old  mythical 
narrative  of  which  it  is  the  monotheistic  elaboration,^  and 

1  For  a  similar  rabbiuical   view  see   Weber,  "System   der  pal.  Theol." 
p.    206. 

2  The  naivete  of  the  narrative  points  to  an  early  stage  of  society  for  its 
origin.     Man,  the  serpent,  the  Eluhim-beings  and  the  cherubs  associate,  as 


SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  199 

then  to  the  writer's  special  purpose  to  explain  certain  uni- 
versal phenomena  of  liuman  life.  He  no  more  explains  the 
origin  of  sin  than  do  the  prophets  and  psalmists ;  he  relates 
its  historical  beginning,  but  he  takes  for  granted  its  psy- 
chological ground,  and  in  this  sense  it  seems  to  have  been 
understood  by  succeeding  generations  for  a  considerable  time. 
The  serpent  in  the  narrative  is  an  enigmatical  figure. 
There  is  no  hint  that  he  is  anything  but  the  animal,  wise 
above  other  animals,  acquainted  with  the  conditions  of 
man's  life  and  with  his  relations  to  the  Elohim,  but  still 
simply  and  wholly  the  animal  ;  the  punishment  inflicted 
on  him  relates  solely  to  the  habits  of  the  beast.  But  there 
seems  to  be  a  difficulty  in  supposing  that  the  writer  of 
Gen.  iii.  could  attribute  such  a  role  to  a  beast.  A  serpent 
endowed  with  reason,  and  capable  of  circumventing  the  de- 
signs of  God,  is  a  character  which  miglit  seem  impossible 
to  Jewish  thought.  It  has  therefore  appeared  to  many  per- 
sons necessary  to  hold  that  the  writer  meant  to  represent 
the  animal  as  merely  the  vehicle  of  a  malignant  spiritual 
being.  Such  was  the  view  taken  in  later  times.  But  is 
there  any  ground  for  attributing  such  a  view  to  our  au- 
thor ?  The  opinion  that  the  lower  animals  in  primitive 
times  were  endowed  with  reason  makes  no  difficulty ;  it 
was  widely  held  in  antiquity.^  The  serpent  of  our  chap- 
ter must  be  regarded  as  going  back  to  a  very  early  time, — 
the  survival  and  transformation  of  an  old  mythical  figure, 
at  first  probably  a  literal  snake,  then  gradually  interwoven 
into  more  developed  myths.  Such  a  malign  figure  might, 
in  the  course  of  generations,  take  just  the  shape  and  play 

it  were,  on  equal  terms,  —  a  characteristic  of  primitive  narratives.     The  cen- 
tral idea  is  man's  loss,  not  of  innocence,  but  of  happy  ease. 

1  For  the  evidence  that  early  peoples  in  all  parts  of  the  world  made  no 
difference,  in  respect  of  reason  and  speech,  between  man  and  other  animals, 
see  Tylor's  "  Primitive  Culture,"  Lang's  "  Myth,  Ritual,  and  Religion,"  and 
similar  works. 


200  SIN   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

just  the  part  of  the  serpent  of  Genesis.  Given  the  two 
conceptions,  —  a  hostile  dragon-creature,  and  the  lajDse  of 
man  from  a  state  of  primitive  happiness,  —  there  might 
not  unnaturally  result  the  story  of  the  temptation  and  fall. 
The  Jews  may  have  received  it,  with  the  two  facts  com- 
bined, during  or  shortly  before  the  exile,  and  impressed  on 
it  the  monotheistic  stamp,  the  relation  of  the  serpent  and 
the  man  to  God  which  we  now  find  in  the  story.^  It  may 
seem  strange  to  us,  or  impossible,  that  Jews  should  have 
been  willing  to  accept  such  a  history  from  their  heathen 
neighbors.  But  we  must  recollect  that  the  Jews  of  the 
exilian  period  were  not  the  Jews  of  the  New  Testament 
times,  or  of  the  second  century  b.  c,  or  even  of  the  period 
of  Ezra  and  Nehemiah.  They  were  far  more  receptive  ; 
their  religious  dogmas  had  not  been  sharply  formulated; 
their  religious  life  was  not  petrified.  They  found  themselves 
in  the  midst  of  a  splendid  civilization,  a  people  speaking 
a  kindred  tongue  to  theirs,  with  stories  of  tlie  olden  times 
whose  Semitic  impress  would  deprive  them  of  the  appear- 
ance of  strangeness  to  the  Semitic  Jew.  Such  stories,  find- 
ing their  way  into  the  little  community  of  exiles  through 
their  intercourse  with  their  Babylonian  neighbors,  might 
after  several  generations  come  to  assume  a  Jewish  shape, 
so  that  their  foreign  origin  might  be  forgotten.  The  ser- 
pent would  be  accepted  as  an  instrument  of  God's  dealings 

1  There  is  no  mention  of  the  temptution  in  the  Babylonian  written  remains, 
only  a  possible  hint  of  it  in  the  pictures  of  the  tree  with  two  persons,  whose 
character  is  not  certain.  The  figure  of  the  hostile  dragon  (Tiamat)  is  prom- 
inent in  Babylonian  epic  poetry,  but  in  the  shape  in  which  we  now  have  it, 
is  late  and  complex.  It  is  certainly  connected  with  the  sea,  as  the  name  indi- 
cates ;  but  how  the  sea  came  to  be  represented  as  a  dragon,  and  the  latter 
came  to  be  the  enemy  of  the  gods  (destroyed  in  the  Babylonian  story  by  Bel- 
Marduk),  is  not  dear.  Tiamat,  for  examjjle,  is  in  the  first  creation-tablet  the 
motlier  of  the  gods  and  of  the  world.  The  figure  seems  to  involve  the  blend- 
ing of  several  different  lines  of  mythical  narrative.  The  humanized  and 
reflective  form  of  the  story  in  Genesis  indicates  a  comparatively  late  period 
for  its  final  redaction. 


Sm  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  201 

with  man  in  those  far-away  times  when  all  the  conditions 
of  life  were  different  from  ours.  The  Jew  would  think  it 
unnecessary  to  ask  how  a  beast  could  do  such  great  things, 
or  why  the  serpent  rather  than  any  other  beast  should  have 
been  the  actor.  The  story  would  be  accepted  with  the  same 
simplicity  with  which  the  prophetic  writer  of  Gen.  vi.  details 
the  history  of  the  angels  who  came  down  to  earth  and  took 
to  themselves  wives  of  the  daughters  of  men.  These  were  all 
things  that  lay  outside  of  present  experience ;  but  they  were 
believed  to  belong  to  a  unique  period  of  human  history. 

We  should  reach  the  same  view  of  the  serpent  if  we 
supposed  the  story  to  have  been  brought  by  the  Jews  from 
Mesopotamia  and  gradually  worked  up  into  its  present 
shape.  The  difficulties  in  the  way  of  this  supposition  have 
already  been  stated ;  but  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  some 
features  of  the  narrative  that  may  seem  to  favor  it.  The 
story  abounds  in  incongruities,  as  if  it  were  the  abridgment 
of  an  originally  much  longer  narrative.  The  representation 
of  the  divine  being  is  of  that  highly  anthropomorphic  char- 
acter which  we  more  naturally  refer  to  early  times :  Yahwe 
brings  the  animals  to  Adam  to  see  what  he  will  call  them, 
and  only  after  a  detailed  examination  is  it  discovered  that 
there  is  among  them  no  companion  corresponding  to  man, 
no  help  meet  for  him,  and  it  then  becomes  necessary  to  cre- 
ate a  special  being  ;  Yahwe  walks  in  the  garden  in  the  cool 
of  the  day,  —  that  is,  the  evening,  —  because  the  heat  was 
insupportable  at  other  times  ;  he  cannot  at  first  find  Adam, 
who  has  hidden  himself ;  he  comes  down  for  the  purpose 
of  finding  out  the  state  of  things  by  personal  inquiry,  and 
it  is  by  cross -questioning  that  the  facts  are  elicited  ;  he 
fears  that  the  man  will  eat  of  the  tree  of  life  and  live 
forever,  —  he  does  not  (apparently  cannot)  withdraw  from 
the  tree  its  virtue,  but  drives  man  from  the  garden,  and 
stations  cherubim  to  guard  it.     Shnilar  anthropomorphisms 


202  SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

are  found  in  the  stories  of  the  flood  and  of  the  Tower  of 
Babel,  and  indeed  elsewhere  (Gen.  xviii.  ;  Ps.  Ixviii.).  In 
their  origin  they  belong  to  an  undeveloped  state  of  re- 
ligious thought ;  but,  handed  down  by  tradition,  they  might 
in  much  more  advanced  times  be  accepted  and  retained  as 
sacred  lore.  Anthropomorphisms  and  incongruities  do  not, 
however,  settle  the  question  of  origin ;  they  may  have  been 
old-Babylonian  as  well  as  old-Hebrew. 

The  role  of  the  serpent  began  very  soon  to  cause  diffi- 
culty in  men's  minds.  Tlie  same  sort  of  doubt  arose  as 
now  exists  among  us.  What  was  this  serpent  ?  Whence  his 
power  and  malignity  ?  It  would  be  natural  to  connect  him 
with  an  evil  spirit  and  to  identify  him  with  Satan  when 
the  doctrine  of  a  great  spiritual  adversary  of  Israel  and 
of  man  had  been  sufficiently  developed.  This  identification 
does  not  occur  in  the  Old  Testament.  But  we  know  that 
the  person  of  Satan  was  constantly  growing  in  distinct- 
ness. In  the  book  of  Chronicles  (1  Chron.  xxi.  1),  Satan 
tempts  David  to  number  Israel,  apparently  for  the  purpose 
of  bringing  misfortune  on  the  king  and  on  the  people.  It 
is  a  procedure  parallel  with  that  of  Gen.  iii.  ;  in  both  cases 
the  tempter  suggests  an  apparently  desirable  act  which  he 
knows  will  excite  the  displeasure  of  God.  We  are  not  able 
to  trace  the  development  of  Satan  further  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. The  book  of  Daniel,  with  its  large  machinery  of 
angels,  some  of  whom  are  unfriendly  to  Israel,  makes  no 
mention  of  the  great  adversary.  The  Wisdom  of  Solomon, 
however,  seems  to  give  a  definite  interpretation  of  the  ser- 
pent of  Gen.  iii. :  "  God  created  man  for  immortality,  and 
made  him  to  be  an  image  for  .his  own  being  [or,  his  own 
eternity],  but  through  envy  of  the  devil  came  death  into 
the  world"  (ii.  23,  24).  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the 
author  here  identifies  the  serpent  with  the  devil ;  and  as 
lie  speaks  of  this  act  of  the  Evil  One  as  well  known,  we 


SIN  AND   EIGHTEOUSNESS.  203 

must  suppose  that  the  identification  in  question  had  been 
made  by  the  Jews  some  time  before,  —  that  is,  probably  as 
early  as  the  third  century  b.  c.^  The  thought  of  the  time 
favored  such  a  view.  There  was  a  growing  belief  in  the 
influence  of  spirits,  good  and  bad,  on  human  life ;  and  the 
literary  and  scientific  culture  of  the  day  more  and  more  hi- 
disposed  men  to  attribute  to  an  animal  the  part  played  by 
the  serpent  in  the  history  of  the  first  man's  transgression. 
But  even  if,  as  is  pointed  out  above,  the  serpent  of  Gen. 
iii.  is  not  to  be  identified  or  connected  with  an  evil  spirit, 
does  it  follow  that  the  narrative  is  to  be  taken  literally  ? 
May  it  not  have  been  intended  as  an  allegory  ?  The  ser- 
pent might  represent  the  lower,  animal  nature  in  man,  from 
which  comes  so  largely  the  inducement  to  sin.^  The  author 
would  then  picture  life  as  a  struggle  between  the  opposing 
tendencies  of  the  human  soul,  and  the  experience  of  the 
first  man  would  be  presented  as  typical  of  all  succeeding 
human  experience.  Such  a  view  is  in  itself  quite  con- 
ceivable, but  is  open  to  various  objections.  It  is  entirely 
without  exegetical  support.  The  writer  by  no  word  hints 
that  the  serpent  is  to  be  taken  otherwise  than  literally ;  it 
is  the  real  animal  that  is  cursed;  it  must  be  the  real  ani- 
mal that  tempts.  Further,  the  narrative  does  not  represent 
Eve  as  yielding  merely  to  a  solicitation  of  the  lower  nature. 
Such  w^as  the  opinion  of  the  rabbis,  but  it  is  not  borne  out 
by  the  text.  What  the  serpent  promises  is  that  man  shall 
be  made  equal  to  the  Elohim  in  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil,  —  that  is,  in  general  moral-intellectual  power,  —  surely 

1  It  has  already  been  suggested  that  the  sharper  isolation  of  Satan  and  his 
identification  with  the  serpent  were  first  effected  in  Egypt,  where  Greek  and 
Egyptian  ideas  were  influential.  In  the  earliest  part  of  the  book  of  Enoch 
(a  Palestinian  production),  i.-xxxvi.,  Ixxii.-cv.,  it  is  Azazel  who  is  the  chief 
representative  of  evil,  in  the  Parables  (of  later  date)  he  is  identified  with 
Satan  (liii.  3 ;  liv.  .5,  6).  We  have  here  an  indication  of  the  gradual  coales- 
cence of  different  lines  of  development  of  the  principle  of  moral  evil. 

2  Philo  (i.  79)  regards  the  serpent  as  a  symbol  of  sensual  pleasure. 


204  SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

not  a  despicable  prize.  As  to  Adam,  his  reason  for  eating 
the  fruit  is  not  given  ;  it  is  only  said  that  he  took  it  when 
it  was  offered  him  by  his  wife.  In  the  case  of  Eve,  it  is 
added  that  she  observed  the  beauty  of  the  fruit ;  a  sensual 
motive  thus  existed,  but  it  is  not  represented  as  predom- 
inating over  the  higher  intellectual  reason.  Such  an  alle- 
gorical narrative  might  be  possible  for  the  time  when  this 
story  was  put  into  shape  (fifth  century  b.  c.)  ;  but  if  that 
had  been  the  author's  intention,  he  would  certainly  have 
given  an  indication  of  it,  as  we  find  in  Isa.  v.,  Ezek.  xvi., 
Vs.  Ixxx.  The  abstract  character  of  the  supposed  allegory 
would,  however,  occasion  doubt ;  such  a  representation,  the 
antagonism  between  the  higher  and  lower  elements  of  the 
soul,  seems  more  appropriate  to  tlie  first  century  of  our 
era  than  to  the  age  of  Ezra. 

Tn  this  connection  we  may  notice  our  author  s  representa- 
tion of  death.  Death  is  regarded  in  the  Old  Testament  as 
the  common  lot  of  men  (the  teaching  of  experience),^  and 
as  the  greatest  of  evils  (since  existence  in  Sheol  was  looked 
on  as  colorless  and  negative,  devoid  of  pleasurable  activity). 
It  was  viewed  vaguely  as  the  inevitable  outcome  of  human 
weakness,  though  it  might  be  prematurely  inflicted  by  God 
in  the  way  of  punishment.^  Except  in  Gen.  iii.,  no  other 
explanation  of  its  prespuce  is  offered  ;  it  was  accepted  as 
an  ultimate  fact.  Tn  the  history  in  Gen.  iii.,  man  is  re- 
garded as  mortal,  yet  as  capable  of  earthly  immortality. 
If  he  had  eaten  of  the  tree  of  life,  he  would  have  lived 
forever;  and  it  does  not  appear  why  he  did  not  eat  of  it 


1  Nothing  is  said  of  a  sentenco  of  death  passed  on  tlie  lower  animals ;  tlicir 
mortality  is  assumed  (I's.  civ.  29),  and  is  not  supposed  to  need  ex])laiiation. 

2  In  rare  cases  (Enoch,  Elijah)  a  man  was  held  to  have  passed  out  of 
earthly  life  without  suffering  death ;  he  was  taken  directly  to  the  abode  of 
the  Elohim.  Parallel  instances  among  other  peoples  are  numerous.  Such 
representations  appear  to  issue  out  of  the  primitive  conception  of  the  essen- 
tial identity  between  gods  and  men. 


SIN  AND   EIGHTEOUSNESS.  205 

while  he  had  opportunity.^  After  his  sin  the  punishment  of 
death  was  denounced  against  him,  perhaps  not  as  stamp- 
ing mortality  on  him,  but  as  declaring  that  he  should  not 
gain  immortality  by  the  life-giving  tree.  The  death  thus 
imposed  was  physical  and  temporal  :  "  Dust  thou  art,  and 
to  dust  thou  shalt  return."  There  is  no  hint  of  a  present 
spiritual  death  of  the  soul,  nor  of  everlasting  death  here- 
after, which  did  not  belong  to  the  writer's  circle  of  ideas. 
The  addition  made  to  the  general  Old  Testament  teaching 
by  this  story  is  that  the  first  man  (and  presumably  the 
whole  race)  lost  the  gift  or  possibility  of  earthly  immor- 
tality by  an  act  of  transgression.  Such  is  the  view  given 
in  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon  (ii.  2.3,  24)  :  "  God  created  man 
to  be  immortal,  .  .  .  but  through  envy  of  the  devil  death 
came  into  the  world."  The  statement  in  Ecclus.  (xvii.  1)  — 
"  the  Lord  created  man  of  the  earth  and  turned  him  into 
it  again" — is  indefinite.  According  to  Ecclus.  (xxv.  24)  and 
Philo  (i.  79),  it  was  through  the  woman  that  sin  and  death 
came  into  the  world. 

The  literature  between  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New  ■ 
Testament  shows  no  development  in  the  idea  of  sin.  Differ- 
ent tendencies,  no  doubt,  existed  among  the  Jewish  people. 
The  nation  as  a  whole  came  under  the  control  of  nomism ; 
sin,  conceived  as  the  violation  of  some  precept  of  the  ex- 
ternal law,  tended  to  assume  a  mechanical  character.  Where 
the  conduct  of  life  was  ordered  by  minute  regulations,  the 
attention  was  naturally  fixed  more  on  the  outward  precept 
and  less  on  the  spiritual  constitution  and  temper  of  the 
soul.  This  is  the  conception  which  we  find  in  the  Wisdom 
of  the  Son  of  Sirach,  the  Sibylline  Oracles,  Tobit,  and  the 
Psalter  of  Solomon.     On  the  other  hand,  the  existence  of  a 

1  I  here  take  the  narrative  as  it  stands,  passing  by,  as  unimportant  for 
the  present  discussion,  the  question  whether  the  tree  of  life  belongs  to  the 
original  form  of  tlie  story.     See  Budde,  "  Biblische  Urgeschichte,"  pp.  46  ff. 


206  SIX  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

more  spiritual  view  is  vouched  for  by  Ps.  li.,  and  by  the 
conception  of  wisdom  found  in  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon  and 
in  Philo.  In  the  last  two  works,  though  there  is  no  ex- 
plicit statement  of  the  nature  of  sin,  it  is  assumed  to  be  a 
contamination,  restriction,  and  violation  of  the  higher  na- 
ture. The  true  life  of  the  soul  is  identified  with  that  wis- 
dom which  involves  both  accurate  knowledge  and  purity 
of  will ;  and  wrong-doing  is  therefore  thought  of  as  an  im- 
pairment of  inward  spiritual  life.  In  accordance  with  this 
view,  Philo  holds  the  body  to  be  the  seat  of  evil  and  the 
antagonist  of  the  higher  life ;  it  conspires,  he  says,  against 
the  soul;  it  is  forever  dead  (i.  100)  ;  it  cannot  aid  in  the 
attainment  of  virtue,  but  rather  hinders  it  (i.  64) ;  and  so 
the  flesh  is  put  over  against  the  divine  spirit,  and  the  two 
are  represented  as  opposing  principles  of  life  :  "  Men  are  of 
two  classes,  —  those  who  order  their  lives  by  the  divine 
spirit  and  reason,  and  those  who  live  by  the  blood  and  the 
pleasure  of  the  flesh  "  (i.  481).^ 

The  New  Testament  representation  of  sin  varies  with  dif- 
ferent writers,  passing  from  the  simple  Old  Testament  view 
to  the  conception  of  evil  as  the  corruption  of  nature.  Its 
universality  is  everywhere  assumed,  as  in  Luke  xiii.  3, 
Rom.  iii.  9-19  ;2  the  teaching  of  the  Old  Testament  and 
of  freneral  human  observation  and  conviction  is  accepted 
without  argument.  The  majority  of  the  New  Testament 
books  show  no  interest  in  the  question  of  the  historical 
origin  of  sin.  Doubtless  the  narrative  in  Oen.  iii.  was  ac- 
cepted with  its  later  interpretation  as  given  in  the  Wisdom 

1  This  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  the  ascetic  view  that  the  body  is  in  itself 
sinful,  but  only  as  the  representation  of  the  flesh  as  in  general  the  visible 
locus  and  instrument  of  the  lower  pleasures. 

■^  The  passages  here  cited  from  the  Old  Testament  are  Eccles.  vii.  20 ;  Ps. 
xiv.  2,  3 ;  Vs  v.  10  (9) ;  Isa.  lix.  7,  8  ;  Ps.  xxxvi.  2(1);  Ps  cxlili.  2.  None  of 
these,  except  the  fir.st  and  last,  affirm  sinfulness  of  all  men ;  the  reference, 
with  the  exception  stated,  is  to  the  "wicked,"  who  are  simply  the  enemies  of 
Israel ;  tlieir  point  of  view  is  ratlier  national  than  moral. 


SIN  .AND   KIGHTEOUSNESS.  207 

of  Solomon  (ii.  24) ;  the  common  view  must  have  been  that 
man  fell  from  purity  by  the  temptation  of  the  devil.  But 
it  seems  to  have  been  felt  that  for  the  moral-spiritual  life, 
this  historical  fact  was  of  small  importance ;  the  practical 
thing  was  to  recognize  the  present  relation  of  sin  to  the 
soul.  Jesus  lays  stress  on  the  fundamental  fact  that  the  root 
of  evil  is  in  the  heart,  whence  proceed  evil  thoughts  and 
deeds  which  defile  the  man  (Matt.  xv.  19,  20)  and  define  the 
character  of  his  soul,  for  the  tree  is  known  by  its  fruit,  and 
out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaks  (Matt, 
xii.  33,  34).  So  in  the  Epistle  of  James,  the  interest  is  in 
the  present  psychological  history  of  sin  :  "  Blessed  is  the  man 
who  endures  temptation,  for  when  he  has  been  approved,  he 
shall  receive  the  crown  of  life  which  he  has  promised  to 
those  that  love  him.  Let  no  man  when  he  is  tempted  say, 
I  am  tempted  by  God,  for  God  cannot  be  tempted  by  evil 
things,  nor  does  he  himself  tempt  any  one  ;  but  each  man 
is  tempted  when  he  is  drawn  away  and  enticed  by  his  own 
desire.  Then  the  desire,  when  it  has  conceived,  bears  sin,  and 
the  sin,  when  it  is  full  grown,  brings  forth  death"  (James 
i.  12-15).  In  this  connection  it  would  have  been  not  unnat- 
ural for  the  writer  to  refer  to  the  history  in  Genesis ;  but  he 
is  concerned  with  practical  life,  with  the  present  struggle  of 
man's  soul.  A  universal  disposition  to  sin  is  here  assumed, 
but  the  psychological  analysis  relates  to  every  sinful  act. 
As  to  the  origin  of  this  tendency  to  evil,  its  relation  to  the 
soul,  whether  it  is  to  be  considered  a  second  nature  or  an 
original  nature,  a  divine  creation  or  a  human  addition  and 
blot,  —  these  are  questions  that  the  greater  part  of  the  New 
Testament,  wholly  concerned  with  practical  life,  does  not 
touch.  The  writings  of  Paul  and  his  school  and  the  Fourth 
Gospel  contain  references  to  the  history  in  Genesis,  but 
merely  repeat  its  statements,  without  undertaking  anything 
like  the  spiritual  history  of  the  first  man ;  "  By  one  man 


208      •  SIX   AND   EIGHTEOUSXESS. 

sin  entered  into  the  world  and  death  by  sin,  and  thus 
death  passed  unto  all  men,  for  that  all  sinned"  (Horn.  v. 
12);  "Adam  was  not  beguiled,  but  the  woman,  being  be- 
guiled, fell  into  transgression'  (1  Tim.  ii.  14)  ;  "Ye  are  of 
your  father  the  devil,  and  you  will  to  do  the  desires  of 
your  father "  (John  viii.  44) 

To  the  same  practical  interest  we  may  ascribe  the  reti- 
cence of  the  New  Testament  respecting  the  external  and  in- 
ternal consequences  of  Adam's  transgression.  Did  the  death 
inflicted  on  him  (and  on  his  descendants)  extend  beyond 
this  life  and  assume  the  form  of  everlasting  punishment 
(of  annihilation  there  is  no  word  in  either  Old  Testament 
or  New  Testament)  ?  Did  the  sentence  affect  man's  moral 
nature,  carrying  with  it  a  deadness  to  higher  inward  im- 
pulses and  incapacity  for  holiness  ?  In  the  greater  part  of 
the  New  Testament  these  questions  are  ignored ;  there  is 
no  consciousness  of  their  existence.  The  Christian  life  of 
the  first  century  consisted  partly  in  the  acceptance  of  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  as  the  INIessiah  and  Saviour,  and  the  expecta- 
tion of  his  speedy  return  to  earth,  and  partly  in  the  ethical 
struggle  against  the  hostility  and  moral  evil  of  the  world. 
Christianity  was  eminently  a  serious,  real  life,  whose  prac- 
tical concerns  absorbed  the  energies  of  men.  The  Gospels 
and  most  of  the  Epistles  are  occupied  with  the  present  as 
a  preparation  for  the  future  ;  of  the  past  tliey  think  only 
in  so  far  as  it  is  a  prediction  of  the  new  kingdom  of  heaven 
which  has  brought  peace  and  moral  stability  with  hope  of 
a  coming  unspeakable  blessedness.  Paul,  with  his  analytic 
and  dogmatically  constructive  mind,  is  the  only  writer  who 
feels  called  on  to  treat  logically  the  historical  beginning 
of  sin  ;  and  even  he  does  it  only  indirectly.  His  argument 
in  Horn.  v.  12-21  has  for  its  main  purpose  to  set  forth 
the  introduction  of  life-giving  righteousness  through  Jesus 
Christ.    He  assumes  the  historical  fact  that  sin  and  death 


SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  209 

entered  the  world  through  Adam,  but  he  seems  not  to  think 
it  necessary  to  define  precisely  the  nature  of  this  death.  It  is 
first  of  all  physical  in  his  conception  :  "  Death  reigned  from 
Adam  till  Moses,  even  over  them  who  had  not  sinned  after 
the  likeness  of  Adam's  transgression  "  (v.  14).  But  at  the 
same  time  he  takes  for  granted  that  it  is  everlasting,  as 
appears  from  the  antithesis  in  v.  21:  "  That,  as  sin  reigned 
in  death,  even  so  might  grace  reign  through  righteousness 
unto  eternal  life  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord."  Further, 
the  contrast  running  through  the  paragraph,  between  the 
righteousness  achieved  by  Christ  and  the  sinful  condition 
established  by  Adam,  doubtless  involved  in  the  apostle's  feel- 
ing the  elements  of  moral  corruption  and  purification.  In 
his  view,  deadness  to  the  law,  the  result  of  faith  in  Christ, 
was  also  deadness  to  sin,  —  a  legal  status  which  could  not 
exist  apart  from  the  moral  attitude  of  the  soul  (ch.  vi). 
Thus,  though  he  makes  no  explicit  statement  of  a  connec- 
tion between  Adam's  sin  and  spiritual  and  everlasting  death, 
it  may  be  inferred  that  the  connection  existed  in  his  mind. 
Traces  of  this  conception  of  the  consequences  of  sin  are 
found  in  pre-Christian  books.  But  Paul  gives  it  a  new 
prominence ;  he  was  naturally  led  to  this  view  by  his  con- 
ception of  Christ  as  the  centre  of  salvation  and  the  turning- 
point  in  religious  history,  —  the  new  divine  life  brought  in 
by  him  was  to  be  set  over  against  the  preceding  period  of 
dull  subjection  to  external  law.  His  view  was  no  doubt 
shared  more  or  less  by  the  body  of  churches  with  which 
he  was  in  special  contact,  and  by  its  logical  symmetry  more 
and  more  commended  itself  to  the  Christian  world.  So  far 
as  regards  a  connection  between  universal  human  sinful- 
ness, a  fact  of  experience,  and  the  historical  incident  de- 
scribed in  Gen.  iii,  this  is  in  itself  not  an  ethical  element 
of  life,  and  Paul  uses  it,  as  we  have  seen,  simply  to  bring 
out  clearly  the  inward  righteousness  created  by  Christ ;  but, 

14 


210  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

raised  to  the  rank  of  a  fundamental  dogma  and  held  in  a 
mechanical  way,  it  is  capable  of  exerting  an  injurious  eftect 
on  the  religious  consciousness. 

The  narrative  in  Genesis  represents  the  woman  as  the 
immediate  agent  of  the  introduction  of  sin  into  the  world/ 
and  this  side  of  the  history  is  followed  literally  in  1  Tim. 
ii.  14:  "Adam  was  not  beguiled,  but  the  woman  was  be- 
guiled, and  fell  into  transgression."  The  lesson  which  the 
writer  draws  from  this  fact  is  the  subordination  of  women  : 
"  Let  a  woman  learn  in  quietness,  in  all  subjection  ;  but  I 
permit  not  a  woman  to  teach  nor  to  have  dominion  over  a 
man,  but  to  be  in  quietness ;  for  Adam  was  first  formed, 
then  Eve,  and  Adam  was  not  beguiled,"  etc.  (vs.  11-13). 
His  interest  in  the  narrative  is  social  and  practical.  Paul, 
on  the  other  hand,  has  nothing  to  say  of  Eve,  but  lays  all 
the  stress  on  Adam  as  the  effective  person  in  the  trans- 
action. His  is  the  legal  view,  which  regards  the  man  as 
the  head  and  representative  of  the  household,  alone  qual- 
ified to  take  legal  action,  the  woman  not  being  sui  juris. 
How  far  this  difference  of  view  existed  in  Christian  circles 
of  that  day,  it  is  impossible  to  say.  As  we  have  already 
seen,  the  Alexandrian  Philo  makes  the  woman  the  intro- 
ducer of  sin,  and  the  same  opinion  is  expressed  in  the  \Yis- 
dom  of  the  Son  of  Sirach.  Whether  Philo  represents  the 
Alexandrian  Jewish  view,  and  Paul  the  Palestinian,  we  have 
no  means  of  determining  ;  if  the  First  Epistle  to  Timothy  be 
regarded  as  representing  Pauline  theological  ideas,  its  usage 
would  go  to  show  that  both  views  were  held  among  Pales- 
tinian Jews.  Not  improbably  Paul  was  led  to  select  Adam 
as  the  central  figure  in  the  history  of  the  first  transgression 

1  The  role  tlius  assigned  to  woman  (and  not  by  the  Hebrews  alone)  is  per- 
haps merely  the  expression  of  the  ancient  opinion  of  the  moral  inferiority  of 
the  sex  (Eccles.  vii.  28  ;  1  Tim.  ii.  14, 15),  such  histories  having  been  composed 
by  men.  But  the  origin  of  the  temptation-story  is  obscure,  and  it  is  impos- 
sible to  say  what  other  elements  may  have  determined  its  present  form- 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  211 

in  order,  by  contrast  with  liim,  to  bring  out  more  clearly  the 
work  of  Christ ;  the  whole  of  the  Pauline  theology  is  derived 
from  the  conception  of  Christ  as  the  centre  of  salvation. 

But  though  the  precise  religious  significance  of  Adam's 
sin  is  scantily  treated  in  the  New  Testament,  there  is  no 
doubt  as  to  its  affirmation  respecting  the  corruption  of 
human  nature.  Here  again  it  is  the  Pauline  school  and 
the  Johannean  writings  to  which  we  owe  the  most  definite 
statements.  The  synoptic  Gospels  say  nothing  of  a  moral 
depravity  inherent  in  man.  On  the  contrary,  Jesus  every-  1 
where  assumes  man's  moral  capability  and  independence ; 
his  appeal  is  to  the  human  conscience  and  will,  which  he 
takes  it  for  granted  can  perceive  and  do  what  is  right ;  in 
his  view  the  difference  between  men  consists  in  the  differ- 
ence of  attitude  toward  G-od  and  right.  Men  are  indeed 
"evil"  (Matt.  vii.  11) ;  but  this  does  not  prevent  their  recog- 
nition and  performance  of  what  is  morally  good  :  "  If  ye 
then,  being  evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  to  your  chil- 
dren, how  much  more  shall  your  Father  who  is  in  heaven 
give  good  things  to  them  that  ask  him  ?  .  .  .  Every  good 
tree  brings  forth  good  fruit,  and  the  corrupt  tree  brings 
forth  evil  fruit ;  a  good  tree  cannot  bring  forth  evil  fruit, 
nor  can  a  corrupt  tree  bring  forth  good  fruit.  ...  By  their 
fruits  ye  shall  know  them"  (Matt.  vii.  11,  17,  18,  20).  The 
same  view  is  found  in  the  Epistle  to  James  :  "  Who  is  wise 
and  understanding  among  you?  let  him  show  by  his  good 
life  his  works  in  meekness  and  wisdom.  .  .  .  Draw  nigh  to 
God,  and  he  will  draw  nigh  to  you  ;  cleanse  your  hands,  ye 
sinners,  and  purify  your  hearts,  ye  double-minded.  ...  He 
who  converts  a  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  way  shall  save  a 
soul  from  death  and  shall  cover  a  multitude  of  sins  "  (James 
iii.  13  ;  iv.  8  ;  v.  20).  This  is  also  the  conception  of  the  soul 
found  in  the  Pastoral  Epistles  :  "  We  know  that  the  law  is 
good  if  a  man  use  it  lawfully,  as  knowing  this,  that  law 


212  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

is  not  made  for  a  righteous  man,  but  for  the  lawless  and 
unruly"  (1  Tim.  i.  8,  9)  ;  "  The  Lord's  servant  must  not  strive, 
but  be  gentle  towards  all,  apt  to  teach,  forbearing,  in  meek- 
ness correcting  them  that  oppose  themselves,  if  peradventure 
God  may  give  them  repentance  unto  the  knowledge  of  the 
truth,  and  they  may  recover  themselves  out  of  the  snare 
of  the  devil "  (2  Tim.  ii.  24,  25,  26) ;  "  To  the  end  that  those 
who  have  believed  God  may  be  careful  to  main ta hi  good 
works"  (Titus  iii.  8).  These  passages  assume  independent 
moral  capability  in  man,  a  view  of  life  which  may  be  held 
along  with  the  belief  in  the  renewing  grace  of  God,  as 
in  the  Epistle  to  Titus:  "The  grace  of  God  has  appeared, 
bringing  salvation  to  all  men,  instructing  us  that,  denying 
ungodliness  and  worldly  desires,  we  should  live  soberly  and 
righteously  in  this  present  age,  looking  for  the  appearance 
of  .  .  .  Christ  Jesus,  who  gave  himself  for  us  that  he  might 
redeem  us  from  all  iniquity"  (ii.  11-14);  "According  to  his 
mercy  he  saved  us,  through  the  washing  of  regeneration  and 
renewing  of  the  holy  spirit,  .  .  .  that  being  justified  by  his 
grace,  we  might  be  made  heirs,  according  to  hope,  of  eternal 
life  "  (iii.  5-7). 

This  is  substantially  the  Old  Testament  point  of  view,  — 
universal  moral  weakness  and  natural  tendency  to  sin,  with 
recognition  of  man's  power  to  will  and  to  do  what  is  right. 
Christianity,  however,  by  emphasizing  the  sinfulness  of  sin, 
brought  out  into  sharper  relief  the  moral  feebleness  of  human 
nature  and  the  necessity  for  the  assisting  and  sustaining 
grace  of  God.  Paul,  under  the  guidance  of  his  dogmatic 
system,  went  a  step  further,  and  formulated  the  doctrine  of 
the  natural  man's  incapacity  to  do  good.  In  his  view,  the 
fatal  religious  error  was  the  belief  in  obedience  to  law  as 
the  ground  of  salvation  ;  the  inability  of  obedience  to  save 
came  to  rest  in  his  mind  on  man's  inability  to  obey,  and 
this   inabilitv  involved  or  was  identical  with   moral   impo- 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  213 

tency.  He  represents  the  flesh  —  that  is,  normal  human  na- 
ture —  as  absohitely  antagonistic  in  ethical  tone  and  works 
to  the  divine  spirit ;  each  of  these  elements  of  life  cherishes 
desires  hostile  to  the  other,  —  they  are  contrary  each  to  the 
other.  All  wicked  deeds  he  characterizes  as  the  "  works 
of  the  flesh  "  (Gal.  v.  17-21).  This  antagonism  between  the 
natural  human  soul  and  the  divine  spirit  of  purity  assumes 
the  corruption  of  man's  heart ;  for  it  is  only  through  Christ 
that  one  escapes  the  dominion  of  the  flesh  and  comes  to  walk 
and  live  by  the  spirit.  It  is  essential  that  the  flesh  with  all 
its  affections  and  desires  —  that  is,  the  whole  ethical  side  of 
the  natural  man  —  be  crucified  (Gal.  v.  24);  its  only  hope 
is  death ;  and  they  who  sow  to  the  flesh  shall  reap  cor- 
ruption (Gal.  vi.  8).  Elsewhere,  Paul  represents  the  moral 
luireceptiveness  of  unbelievers  as  the  result  of  blinding  by 
the  god  of  this  age  (2  Cor.  iv.  4),  the  result  of  which  must 
be  absolute  inability  to  see  or  to  do  the  truth.  The  doctrine 
is  expressed  definitely  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Eomans  :  "  Our 
old  man  was  crucified  with  him,  that  the  body  of  sin  might 
be  done  away,  that  so  we  should  no  longer  be  in  bondage 
to  sin  "  (vi.  6)  ;  "I  know  that  in  me,  that  is,  in  my  flesh,  there 
dwells  no  good  thing  "  (vii.  18)  ;  "  The  mind  of  the  flesh  is 
enmity  against  God,  for  it  is  not  and  cannot  be  subject  to 
the  law  of  God,  and  they  that  are  in  the  flesh  cannot  please 
God "  (viii.  7).  And  yet,  with  this  thorough-going  view  of 
man's  inward  corruption,  the  apostle  still  holds  to  an  in- 
dwelling recognition  of  the  good,  a  will  which  is  capable 
of  desire,  but  not  of  performance  :  "  To  will  is  present  with 
mo,  but  not  the  power  to  do  what  is  right,  for  the  good 
which  I  would  I  do  not,  but  the  evil  which  I  would  not, 
that  I  practise"  (Rom.  vii.  18,  19).  Thus  he  reaches  the  con- 
ception of  a  schism  in  the  soul,  a  conflict  between  the  true 
self  and  the  sinful  self :  "If  I  do  what  I  would  not,  it  is 
no  longer  I  that  do  it,  but  sin,  which  dwells  in  me  "  (Rom. 


V 


214  SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

vii.  20).^  This  is  perhaps  an  illogical  position  ;  for  if  no 
good  can  dwell  in  the  soul,  it  is  incapable  of  willing  what 
is  right.  But  Paul  is  the  last  man  to  concern  himself  about 
illogicalness.  The  very  intensity  of  his  logical  demands  nat- 
urally leads  him  into  inconsistencies.  When  he  is  pointing 
out  the  need  of  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  he  describes  in 
unlimited  terms  man's  natural  inability  to  attain  righteous- 
ness ;  but  in  the  examination  of  his  own  experience,  he  finds 
the  most  striking  proof  of  his  moral  incapacity  in  the  help- 
lessness of  his  will  against  the  corruption  of  his  nature,  — 
that  is,  he  assumes  the  existence  of  a  will  which  is  on  the 
side  of  right.  What  this  "  I "  is,  this  personality  which  stands 
opposed  to  sin,  he  does  not  further  explain.  Evidently  he 
was  conscious  of  natural  good  impulses  which  were  over- 
borne by  temptations;  but  instead  of  viewing  such- impulses 
as  the  germ  which  might  be  developed  into  holiness,  he 
fixes  his  eye  on  the  weak  side  of  his  nature  and  declares 
it  to  be  totally  depraved.  It  is  this  side  of  humanity  — 
man's  moral  debility  —  which  the  apostle's  theological  sys- 
tem led  him  to  insist  on  ;  the  other  —  man's  independent 
conscience  and  recognition  of  and  striving  after  the  good  — 
he  leaves  almost  completely  out  of  view.  Yet,  though  he 
does  not  elsewhere  formulate  it,  the  recognition  of  man's 
moral  capacity  may  be  discerned  in  the  appeals  which  he 
so  often  makes  to  the  conscience  and  will ;  in  his  portrait- 
ure of  the  moral  condition  of  the  heathen  world,  for  exam- 
ple (Itom.  i.  18-32),  he  assumes  in  tlie  lieathen  capacity  to 
recognize  and  to  obey  God.^     It  will  be,  perhaps,  a  not  un- 

1  It  is  clear,  from  vs.  10,  14,  24,  that  Tanl  is  in  tliis  chapter  descrihinc;  the 
experience,  not  of  tlie  renewed,  bnt  of  the  natural  soul. 

2  It  was  not  unnatural  that  the  apostle's  picture  of  the  contemporary 
Roman  world  should  be  a  dark  one  ,  he  was  absorbed  in  the  demonstration 
of  his  theme  that  the  only  possible  righteousness  is  that  which  is  revealed  in 
the  gospel,  the  righteousness  that  rests  on  faith  in  Christ.  But  it  is  only  a 
half-view  that  he  gives.     In  the  lives  of  not  a  few  illustrious  men  whose  biog- 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  215 

fair  account  of  Paul's  view  to  say  that  he  recognizes  both 
those  elements  of  life  which  force  themselves  on  our  atten- 
tion, moral  weakness  and  capacity  for  moral  good.  It  is  his 
attitude  toward  the  law  which  leads  him  to  affirm  at  times 
moral  deadness,  in  order  to  do  away  with  man's  pretensions 
to  achieving  his  own  salvation ;  he  feels  that  he  can  prepare 
the  way  for  the  righteousness  of  Christ  only  by  eliminating 
the  righteousness  of  the  law. 

Complete  moral  incapacity  is  affirmed  in  the  Epistles  to 
the  Ephesians  and  to  the  Colossians,  whose  theology,  who- 
ever their  author  or  authors  may  be,  is  substantially  Paul- 
ine :  "  And  you  did  he  quicken,  when  you  were  dead  through 
your  trespasses  and  sins,  wherein  aforetime  you  walked  ac- 
cording to  the  age  of  this  world,  according  to  the  prince  of 
the  power  of  the  air,  of  the  spirit  that  now  works  in  the 
sons  of  disobedience ;  among  whom  we  also  all  once  lived 
in  the  desires  of  our  flesh,  doing  the  wishes  of  the  flesh  and 
of  the  thoughts,  and  were  by  nature  children  of  wrath  even 
as  otliers ;  but  God,  being  rich  in  mercy,  on  account  of  his 
great  love  with  which  he  loved  us,  even  when  we  were 
dead  through  our  trespasses,  quickened  us  together  with 
the  Christ "  (Eph.  ii.  1-5,  and  so  Col.  ii.  13).  Yet  here  also 
we  have  to  note  the  recognition  of  man's  moral  freedom  in 
'the  various  precepts  (Eph.  iv.  v. ;  Col.  iii.  iv.),  obedience  to 
which  is  assumed  to  be  within  man's  power ;  the  Ephesians 
are  even  exhorted  to  put  away  the  "  old  man,"  —  that  is, 
the  corrupt  nature.  The  transition  from  one  of  these  points 
of  viev/  to  another  is  natural ;  at  one  time  the  attention  is 
fixed  on   man's   obvious   moral  weakness,  at  another  time 

rapliies  have  come  down  to  us,  and,  there  is  ground  to  suppose,  of  many 
an  unnamed  household,  there  were  examples  of  shuiing  or  quiet  virtue,  of 
patience,  devotion,  and  love.  An  age  must  not  he  judged  wholly  b}'  its  exam- 
ples of  shining  wickedness.  Nor  is  this  sweeping  condemnation  necessary  to 
show  the  power  of  a  righteousness  that  has  its  basis  in  steadfast  loviiig  trust 
in  a  holv  God. 


216  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

on  that  iudepeudence  and  power  of  moral  action  without 
which  no  true  ethical  life  can  be  conceived. 

In  the  Fourth  Gospel,  we  pass  to  a  conception  of  life  dif- 
ferent from  those  above  described.  The  author  looks  not 
on  the  individual,  but  on  the  mass  of  humanity.  He  does 
not  enter  into  an  analysis  of  the  ethical  elements  and  pow- 
ers of  the  human  soul,  but  regards  the  world,  the  cosmos, 
as  hostile  to  God,  incapable  of  apprehending  the  truth,  in- 
volved in  darkness  and  death.  Into  this  mass  of  darkness 
and  death  Jesus  has  brought  light  and  life,  whereby  a  con- 
flict between  tliese  opposing  powers  has  been  introduced. 
"  In  him  was  life,  and  the  Ufe  was  the  light  of  men,  and 
the  Hght  shines  in  the  darkness  and  the  darkness  does  not 
apprehend  it ;  .  .  .  and  this  is  the  judgment,  that  the  light 
has  come  into  the  world,  and  men  loved  the  darkness  rather 
than  the  light,  for  their  deeds  were  evil.  .  .  .  Jesus  spake 
unto  them,  saying,  I  am  the  light  of  the  world ;  he  that 
follows  me  shall  not  walk  in  the  darkness,  but  shall  have 
the  light  of  life.  ...  I  am  come  a  light  into  the  world, 
that  whoever  believes  on  me  may  not  abide  in  the  dark- 
ness" (i.  4,  5;  iii.  19;  viii.  12  ;  xii.  46).  In  the  sixth  chap- 
ter (vs.  33-63),  Jesus  describes  himself  as  the  bread  of  life, 
the  true  manna  fi'oin  heaven,  of  which  a  man  may  eat  and 
never  die.  Elsewhere  it  is  explained  that  his  words  are  the 
source  of  truth  :  "  The  words  that  I  speak  unto  you,  they 
are  the  spirit  and  they  are  the  life  "  (vi.  63).  The  world  is 
thus  pictured  as  dead,  capable  of  attaining  life  only  by  be- 
lieving on  Jesus,  the  Son  of  God,  who.se  teaching  is  the 
expression  of  the  absolute  truth,  who  is  himself,  therefore, 
the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life  (xiv.  0).  And  thus  the  sin 
of  the  world  is  unbelief:  the  Spirit  convicts  the  world  of 
sin  because  it  believes  not  on  Jesus  (xvi.  9).  Those  who 
believe  are  ushered  into  a  new  existence  and  form  a  sepa- 
rate communitv,  which  stands  over  against  the  world  in  a 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  217 

relation  of  irreconcilable  hostility :  "  If  the  world  hates  you, 
know  that  it  hated  me  before  it  hated  you ;  if  you  were 
of  the  world,  the  world  would  love  its  own,  but  because 
you  are  not  of  the  world,  but  I  chose  you  out  of  the  world, 
therefore  the  world  hates  you"  (xv.  18,19).  So  sharp  is 
this  separation,  so  completely  removed  is  the  world  from 
the  sphere  of  the  divine  life,  that  Jesus,  according  to  the 
representation  of  the  author,  puts  it  out  of  the  sphere  of 
his  intercession  :  "  I  pray  not  for  the  world  "  (xvii.  9).  Yet 
it  is  only  by  God's  choice  and  drawing  that  men  can  detach 
themselves  from  the  mass  of  the  world  and  come  to  Jesus  : 
"  No  man  can  come  to  me  except  the  Father  which  sent  me 
draw  him"  (vi.  44).  The  same  antithesis  of  power  and  im- 
potency,  however,  is  here  brought  out  as  in  the  Pauline 
writings  :  "  You  have  not  his  word  abiding  in  you,  for  whom 
he  sent,  him  you  believe  not ;  you  search  the  Scriptures  be- 
cause you  think  that  in  them  you  have  eternal  life,  and  it 
is  they  that  bear  witness  of  me ;  and  you  are  not  willing  to 
come  to  me  that  you  may  have  life.  ...  If  you  believed 
Moses,  you  would  believe  me,  for  he  wrote  of  me ;  but  if  you 
believe  not  his  writings,  how  shall  you  believe  my  words  ?  .  .  . 
All  that  the  Father  gives  me  shall  come  to  me,  and  him  who 
comes  to  me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out "  (v.  38-40,  46,  47 ; 
vi.  37).  And  as  God  is  thus  the  creator  of  the  new  world 
of  light  and  truth  and  life,  he  stands  over  against  the  devil, 
the  author  of  falsehood  :  "  I  speak  the  things  which  I  have 
seen  with  my  father,  and  you  also  do  the  things  which  you 
have  heard  from  your  father.  They  answered  and  said  unto 
him.  Our  father  is  Abraham.  Jesus  said  to  them.  If  you  are 
Abraham's  children,  do  the  works  of  Abraham.  But  now 
you  seek  to  kill  me,  a  man  who  has  told  you  the  truth, 
which  I  heard  from  God ;  this  did  not  Abraham.  You  do 
the  works  of  your  father.  They  said  to  him.  We  have  one 
father,  God.     Jesus  said  to  them.  If  God  were  your  father. 


218  SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

you  would  love  me,  for  I  came  forth  and  am  come  from 
God ;  I  have  not  come  of  myself,  but  he  sent  me.  Why  do 
you  not  know  my  speech  ?  Because  you  cannot  hear  my 
word.  You  are  of  your  father,  the  devil,  and  the  desires  of 
your  father  it  is  your  will  to  do.  He  was  a  murderer  from 
the  beginning,  and  stood  not  in  the  truth,  because  there 
is  no  truth  in  him  "  (viii.  38-44).  The  same  general  view 
is  given  in  the  First  Epistle  of  John. 

The  author  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  looking  at  the  world 
from  a  philosophical  point  of  view,  conceives  of  life  as  a 
conflict  between  the  divine  and  the  anti-divine  elements. 
The  world  is  corrupt;  but  he  offers  no  explanation  of  the 
source  of  its  moral  evil.^  It  was  created  by  God  through 
Jesus  Christ,  and  yet  is  out  of  harmony  with  God  :  "  He 
[Jesus]  was  in  the  world,  and  the  world  was  made  through 
him,  and  the  world  knew  him  not"  (i.  10).  Of  the  con- 
dition of  the  world  before  Christ  came,  the  author  says 
nothing,  yet  he  assumes  that  Abraham  was  in  harmony 
with  God  (viii.  39,  40).  In  his  portraiture  of  the  moral 
corruption  of  the  world,  he  substantially  agrees  with  Paul. 
But  his  interest  in  the  question  of  sin  is  not  an  historical 
one,  —  he  seeks  no  points  of  connection  with  the  past ;  he 
is  concerned  only  with  the  fact  that  into  this  great  corrupt 
organism,  the  world,  there  has  streamed  a  divine  life,  em- 
bodied in  the  words  and  thus  in  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ. 

1  From  his  reference  to  the  devil  (viii.  44  ;  xvi.  11)  it  may  be  inferred  that 
he  accepted  the  current  opinion  wliicii  connected  the  "prince  of  this  world" 
with  the  lapse  of  the  parents  of  the  race  from  innocence.  He  does  not,  how- 
ever, attempt  to  bring  this  fact  into  relation  with  the  originnl  function  of 
the  Logos.  His  fondness  for  the  term  cosmos  (more  than  one-half  the  occur- 
rences of  this  word  in  the  New  Testament  are  found  in  the  Fourth  Gospel 
and  the  First  Epistle  of  .John)  .suggests  the  Stoic  idea  which  is  adopted  by 
Philo.  It  would  seem,  therefore,  that  on  this  Philonian  conception  (Cosmos 
and  Logos)  he  has  simply  grafted  the  Jewish  idea  of  the  entrance  of  sin  into 
the  world  through  an  evil  supernatural  being.  But  he  is  so  absorbed  in  the 
pre.sent  mission  of  the  Logos  that  he  does  not  care  to  account  for  the  fact 
which  makes  tliat  mission  necessarv. 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  219 

His  eye  is  fixed  not  on  man's  inward  struggle  against  sin, 
but  on  the  transforming  power  of  God,  which  lays  hold  of 
man  and  brings  him  into  the  sphere  of  light  and  life.^ 

The  idea  that  sin  inheres  in  the  flesh  as  matter  does  not 
belong  to  the  teaching  of  the  New  Testament.  We  have 
already  seen  that  the  Old  Testament  regards  the  human 
body  as  the  instrument  of  the  soul,  and  therefore  as  often 
the  occasion  of  sin,  but  not  in  any  wise  as  in  itself  impure. 
The  transition,  however,  to  this  latter  view  of  the  impurity 
of  the  flesh  was  natural  and  easy ;  the  body,  being  the  occa- 
sion of  evil,  would  without  difficulty  come  to  be  thought 
of  as  its  seat.  Such  seems  to  be  the  idea  in  Wisdom  of 
Solomon  (viii.  19,  20),  where  the  author  is  describing  his  own 
birth  :  "  I  was  a  child  of  excellent  disposition,  and  I  obtained 
a  good  soul ;  yea,  being  good,  I  came  into  an  undefiled  body." 
The  thought  here  is  not  clear ;  but  there  is  in  any  case 
the  suggestion  that  some  human  bodies  are  in  themselves 
impure.  So  in  the  passages  quoted  above  from  Philo,  the 
flesh  is  identified  with  evil ;  but  in  the  New  Testament  the 
term  is  used  in  a  figurative  sense  for  the  corrupt  nature, 
and  there  is  no  indication  that  the  gnostic  doctrine  of  the 
impurity  of  matter  is  held  by  any  New  Testament  writer. 
It  is  opposed  and  condemned  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Colossians 
(ii.  20-23).2 

^  The  peculiar  representation  in  Johu  ix.  34,  of  the  blind  man  as  born 
in  sins,  and  the  idea  that  the  blindness  was  the  punishment  of  parental  sin 
(ix.  2),  belongs  to  the  Old  Testament  view;  we  have  here  a  popular  concep- 
tion which  does  not  essentially  modify  the  theory  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  or  of 
the  New  Testament  generally. 

■•^  Neither  gnosticism  nor  that  asceticism  which  is  allied  to  gnosticism 
seems  to  be  a  Jewish  (or  indeed  a  Semitic)  conception.  Certainly  nothing 
of  the  sort  is  found  in  the  Old  Testament,  which  is  rather  marked  by  an 
intense  love  of  this  life  and  conviction  of  its  goodness.  The  Kechabite  absti- 
nence from  wine  was  a  survival  of  the  old  nomad  life,  and  the  same  thing 
is  probably  true  of  the  Nazarite  vow,  —  the  Nazarites  mentioned  in  the  Old 
Testament  are  anything  but  ascetics.  The  Wisdom  of  Solomon  and  the 
waitings  of  Philo  are  not  of  purely  Jewish  origin,  and  the  same  thing  may 
be  suspected  of  the  isolated  Essenian  community. 


220  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

The  New  Testament  conception  of  human  sinfulness,  there- 
fore, differs  little  from  the  result  of  general  observation.  Men 
are  held  to  be  everywhere  prone  to  evil ;  and  on  the  other 
hand,  the  ethical  independence  of  tlie  conscience  and  will 
is  recognized.  Of  the  historical  genesis  of  sin  in  the  world 
almost  nothing  is  said ;  the  main  interest  attaches  to  the 
present  problem  of  life,  the  annihilation  of  sin  as  a  power 
in  the  soul.  Jesus  thinks  of  this  destruction  of  sin  as  pro- 
duced by  the  voluntary  attitude  of  the  soul  toward  God  and 
man  ;  in  the  Epistle  of  James  we  find  the  Old  Testament 
conception  of  the  overcoming  of  sin  by  effort  of  will;  the 
writings  of  the  Pauline  school  consider  the  destruction  of 
sin  in  the  soul  to  be  the  result  of  the  death  of  Christ  and 
the  new  creation  thence  resulting.  In  the  Fourth  Gospel  the 
celestial  light  brought  into  the  world  by  the  Son  of  God  dis- 
pels the  darkness  of  sin  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  believe. 
The  characteristic  of  the  New  Testament  teaching  is  its  in- 
tense conception  of  sin  as  the  one  great  evil  in  the  world, 
as  the  central  fact  of  life,  around  which  range  themselves 
all  the  powers  of  heaven,  earth,  and  hell.  All  the  mani- 
festations of  God  in  history  look  finally  to  the  annihilation 
of  this  malignant  power  of  the  human  soul. 

3.  The  destruction  of  sin  is  the  negative  side  of  tlie  divine 
process  of  salvation  in  the  Jewish  and  Christian  Scriptures ; 
the  positive  side  is  the  attainment  of  righteousness.  The 
two  are  inseparably  connected  ;  but  it  will  be  convenient  to 
consider  first  the  methods  by  which  the  removal  of  shi  was 
supposed  to  be  effected. 

The  legislation  introduced  by  Ezra  and  Nehemiah,  while 
it  contained  an  elaborate  new  sacrifice  for  sin,  did  not  dis- 
card the  older  ideas  on  the  subject.  Up  to  the  time  of  the 
exile,  the  theory  of  expiation  corresponded  with  the  general 
ethical  and  religious  status  of  the  nation  ;  for  the  prophets, 
the  national  sin  was  the  absorbing  interest,  and  they  appear 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  221 

as  protesting  against  an  earlier  opinion,  which  disposed  of 
sin  in  an  easy,  mechanical  way  by  sacrifices.  Such  was  the 
primitive  view  respecting  offences  against  God  :  if  the  deity 
was  angry,  he  was  to  be  appeased  by  a  gift ;  and  this  gift, 
when  the  sense  of  the  moral  guilt  of  sin  was  better  devel- 
oped, assumed  the  form  of  a  vicarious  offering.  When  the 
offence  was  against  man,  forgiveness  might  be  obtained,  if 
it  were  thought  desirable,  by  repentance  and  reparation ; 
in  so  far  as  it  was  conceived  also  as  an  offence  against 
God,  it  was  to  be  atoned  for  by  sacrifice.  For  the  old  me- 
chanical idea  that  the  deity  was  appeased  by  a  gift  ths 
prophets  desired  to  substitute  the  conviction  of  the  neces- 
sity for  repentance  and  reformation.  This  protest  of  the 
prophets  represents  a  most  important  advance  in  the  eth- 
ical conception  of  sin  and  the  deliverance  from  sin  ;  it  is 
stated  with  admirable  fulness  and  clearness  by  the  prophet 
Isaiah  :  "  Hear  the  word  of  Yahwe,  ye  judges  of  Sodom ; 
give  ear  to  the  teaching  of  our  God,  ye  people  of  Gomorrah. 
To  what  purpose  is  the  multitude  of  your  sacrifices  to  me  ? 
says  Yahwe ;  I  am  full  of  the  burnt  offerings  of  rams,  and 
the  fat  of  fed  beasts,  and  I  delight  not  in  the  blood  of  bul- 
locks and  lambs  and  he-goats.  When  you  present  yourselves 
before  me,  who  has  required  this  at  your  hand,  to  tread  my 
courts  ?  Bring  no  more  vain  oblations  ;  incense  is  an  abom- 
ination to  me ;  new  moon  and  Sabbath,  the  calling  of  assem- 
blies, I  cannot  endure,  —  it  is  iniquity.  Your  new  moons  and 
your  appointed  feasts  I  hate  ;  they  are  a  burden  to  me  ;  I 
am  tired  of  bearing  them.  And  when  you  spread  forth  your 
hands,  I  will  hide  my  eyes  from  you  ;  and  when  you  make 
many  prayers,  I  will  not  hear ;  your  hands  are  full  of  blood. 
Wash  you,  make  you  clean  ;  put  away  the  evil  of  your 
doings  from  before  my  eyes  ;  cease  to  do  evil ;  learn  to  do 
well ;  seek  judgment,  relieve  the  oppressed,  judge  the  father- 
less, plead  for  the  widow.     Come  now,  and  let  us  reason  to- 


222  SIN   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

gether,  says  Yahwe  ;  though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they 
shall  be  as  white  as  snow  ;  though  they  be  red  like  crim- 
son, they  shall  be  as  wool"  (Isa.  i.  10-18).  This  is  the  pre- 
vailing view  in  the  prophetic  writings  up  to  the  time  of  the 
return  from  the  Babylonian  exile  :  wrong  must  be  put  away 
by  an  act  of  will ;  the  right  must  be  done ;  the  soul  must 
come  into  an  attitude  of  willing  obedience  toward  God ;  then 
he  will  pardon  the  sin,  whether  of  the  nation  or  of  the  indi- 
vidual, and  bestow  the  blessings  of  his  favor.  This  simple 
ethical  conception  of  the  escape  from  sin  by  an  act  of  the 
will,  corresponding  as  it  does  to  human  experience,  main- 
tained itself  through  the  Old  Testament  times  and  appears 
in  the  New  Testament.  It  is  one  side  of  the  struggle  against 
sin,  —  a  side  that  can  never  be  safely  ignored,  though  it  may 
be  conceived  in  a  mechanical  way,  and  lead  to  a  depressed 
and  unspiritual  religious  life. 

This  double  view  of  expiation  for  sin  continued  down  to 
the  exile.  In  the  temple  and  the  other  sacred  places  the 
traditional  sacrifices  were  maintained,  and  the  ethical  ideas 
of  the  prophets  no  doubt  penetrated  the  mass  of  the  peo- 
ple to  some  extent.  Alongside  of  these  there  was,  however, 
another  conception  of  the  way  in  which  sinning  man  might 
be  reconciled  to  God.  It  was  a  natural  feelnig  that  the  sin- 
ner's suffering  atoned  for  his  sin  ;  suffering  was  the  punish- 
ment of  sin  ;  and  when  the  just  measure  had  been  reached, 
the  wrong-doer  might  hold  that  the  ground  of  the  divine 
displeasure  had  been  removed.  This  natural  view  of  the 
subject  had  no  doubt  existed  all  along  among  the  Israelites 
Cas  it  has  always  existed  among  men) ;  but  it  does  not  find 
definite  expression  till  the  latter  part  of  the  exile,  when 
the  grievous  affliction  of  the  nation  and  the  hope  of  coming 
deliverance  led  it  to  take  shape  in  the  mind  of  the  second 
Isaiah  :  "  Speak  ye  comfortably  to  Jerusalem,  and  cry  unto 
her  that  her  time  of  service  is  accomplished,  that  her  pun- 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  223 

ishment  is  accepted,  for  she  has  received  at  the  hand  of 
Yah  we  double  for  all  her  sins  "  (Isa.  xl.  2).  Traces  of  this 
feeling  may  be  discerned  in  the  later  literature,  in  the 
frequent  cry,  "  0  Lord,  how  long  ? "  So  just  after  the  re- 
turn from  Babylon  the  angel  of  Yahwe  appeals  to  God  : 
"  0  Yahwe  of  hosts,  how  long  wilt  thou  not  have  mercy  on 
Jerusalem  and  on  the  cities  of  Judah,  against  which  thou 
hast  had  indignation  these  threescore  and  ten  years  ? "  (Zech. 
i.  12.)  Such  is  probably  the  feelhig  underlying  the  laments 
of  Ps.  Ixxix.  Ixxx.  Ixxxv. 

It  was  but  a  step  from  this  conception  to  the  idea  of  vica- 
rious human  suffering.  This  idea  resides  in  the  theory  of 
solidarity  which  has  always  prevailed  in  the  world,  and 
maintained  itself  in  Israel,  notwithstanding  the  larger  recog- 
nition of  individual  responsibility,  which  was  a  concomitant, 
or  rather  an  element,  of  the  ethical  growth  of  the  nation. 
The  members  of  any  social  unit  —  as  the  family,  the  tribe, 
or  the  state  —  were  thought  of  as  bound  together  into  a 
unit  of  moral  responsibility.  The  sin  of  the  father  im- 
perilled the  happiness  of  his  children  ;  the  nation  suffered 
for  the  faults  of  its  rulers.  But  on  the  same  grounds,  all 
the  members  of  the  social  unit  would  share  the  blessings 
achieved  by  its  head  :  if  he  was  good,  they  prospered  ;  if 
he  by  suffering  wrought  out  forgiveness  of  sin,  they  might 
share  the  pardon  and  its  attendant  blessing.  The  idea  must 
have  existed  in  germ  from  early  times,  but  it  could  receive 
full  expression  only  after  the  moral  consciousness  had  at- 
tained a  ^relatively  large  development.  The  question  of  the 
relation  of  suffering  to  sin,  which  had  always  been  in  men's 
minds,  came  into  new  prominence  during  the  exile.  The  old 
theory  was  that  all  suffering  was  a  punishment  for  sin :  the 
good  prospered;  the  wicked  suffered.  So  the  prophets  had 
explained  the  destruction  of  the  northern  kingdom  and  the 
fall  of  Jerusalem :  the  people  had  sinned ;  the  nation  must 


224  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

be  destroyed.  But  at  tlie  same  time  there  had  been  grow- 
ing up  a  consciousness  of  righteousness.  In  contrast  with 
other  nations,  Israel  had  been  obedient  to  Yahwe.  Under 
the  new  conditions  of  life  in  Babylonia,  where  there  was 
probably  a  sifting  of  the  exiles,  one  section  of  the  nation 
had  come  to  feel  that  it  was  faithful  to  the  divine  law, 
and  the  question  arose  why  it  should  be  involved  in  the 
dreadful  suffering  of  banishment  from  home  and  contact 
with  unsympathizing  idolaters.  The  answer  which  presented 
itself  to  tlie  great  prophet  of  the  latter  part  of  the  exile 
was  that  the  suffering  was  vicarious.  Through  it,  he  said, 
the  body  of  the  nation  was  to  be  brought  back  to  obedience 
and  the  favor  of  the  God  of  Israel.  The  pious,  faithful  ker- 
nel of  the  nation  was  the  true  servant  of  Yahwe,  despised 
and  rejected  of  men,  esteemed  to  be  stricken,  smitten  of 
God,  and  afflicted.  Yet  in  truth  it  was  for  the  iniquities  of 
the  nation  that  he  was  bruised  ;  Yahwe  laid  on  him  the 
iniquity  of  them  all.  He  was  oppressed  ;  yet  in  the  land 
of  exile,  in  the  midst  of  enemies,  he  humbled  himself  and 
opened  not  his  moutli.  For  the  transgression  of  his  people 
he  was  cut  off  from  the  land  of  the  living,  though  he  had 
done  no  violence,  and  there  was  no  deceit  in  his  mouth  (Isa. 
liii.  1-9).  Such  is  the  picture  which  the  prophet  gives  of 
the  suffering  of  pious  souls  in  the  midst  of  alien  enemies. 
And  what  was  the  explanation  ?  Would  Yahwe  arbitrarily 
involve  the  faithful  in  the  punishment  of  tlie  unfaithful  ? 
Would  he  be  insensible  to  the  claims  of  his  obedient  sons  ? 
Such  a  supposition  was  impossible.  The  prophet  ^ses  to  a 
grand  conception  of  the  destiny  of  the  nation.  As  the  bearer 
of  the  divine  word,  Israel  was  to  become  the  centre  of  illu  • 
mination  for  the  nations,  the  standard-bearer  of  truth  and 
purity.  Ihit  to  fulfil  this  mission,  Israel  must  first  itself  be 
purified,  its  sin  must  be  punished  and  removed  ;  yet  it  was 
not  necessary  that  the  needful  purifying  suffering  should  be 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  225 

borne  by  the  sinners  themselves.  It  might  be  laid  on  inno- 
cent heads  ;  and  the  greater  the  purity  and  dignity  of  the 
vicarious  sufferer,  the  greater  the  efficacy  of  liis  suffering, 
and  the  larger  the  blessing  which  would  issue  from  the  favor 
of  God  thus  obtained.  The  prophet  idealizes  the  faithful  of 
Israel  into  a  personality  of  perfect  innocence  (and  it  does 
not  matter,  for  the  development  of  the  doctrine  of  vicarious- 
ness,  whether  he  has  in  mind  the  contemporary  body  of  the 
faithful,  or  a  contemporary  or  future  individual  conceived 
as  a  representative  and  ideal  Israelite).  Out  of  this  suffer- 
ing was  to  arise  the  highest  blessing.  It  pleased  Yah  we  to 
bruise  his  servant ;  but  when  the  sufferer's  soul  should  have 
been  made  an  offering  for  sin,  then  he  should  taste  the  fruit 
of  his  self-sacrifice,  —  he  should  see  of  the  travail  of  his 
soul  and  should  be  satisfied  (Isa.  liii.  10-12).  Israel  should 
become  righteous ;  and  further,  the  world  should  share  its 
rigliteousness  :  "  It  is  too  light  a  thing  that  thou  shouldst 
be  my  servant  to  raise  up  the  tribes  of  Jacob  and  to  re- 
store the  preserved  of  Israel ;  I  will  also  give  thee  for  a 
light  to  the  Gentiles,  that  my  salvation  may  come  unto  the 
end  of  the  earth"  (Isa.  xlix.  6);  "Strangers  shall  build  up 
thy  walls  and  their  kings  shall  minister  to  thee  ;  .  .  .  that 
nation  and  kingdom  that  will  not  serve  thee  shall  perish " 
(Isa.  Ix.  10,  12). 

It  is  only  an  external  effect  that  is  here  described  ;  noth- 
ing is  said  of  an  inward  conflict  of  soul  produced  by  the 
contemplation  of  unmerited  suffering.  It  is  only  the  objec- 
tive idea  of  vicarious  human  suffering  that  is  brought  out  in 
the  exilian  prophecy  ;  and  it  appears  to  have  been  an  iso- 
lated product  of  this  period,  a  special  flight  of  the  pious 
imagination  of  one  great  thinker.  There  is  no  reference  to 
it  in  the  post-exilian  literature.  After  the  great  crisis  of  the 
exile  and  the  introduction  of  the  law,  it  fell  into  the  back- 
ground, not  to  be  revived  till  the  rise  of  Christianity.     The 


226  SIN   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

exterual,  ceremonial  idea  of  atonement  for  sin  was  definitely 
formulated  by  the  Law  in  its  system  of  sacrifices.  As  has 
already  been  remarked,  the  element  of  vicariousness  enters 
into  sacrifice  as  a  result  of  deeper  moral  consciousness.  Sac- 
rifice was  at  first  a  gift  to  the  deity,  which  a  profounder 
sense  of  moral  unworthiness  converted  into  a  victim  bear- 
ing the  guilt  and  punishment  of  the  offerer.  The  Levitical 
law  is  not  to  be  looked  on  as  a  mere  extension  and  organ- 
ization of  the  ritual.  It  did,  indeed,  continue  and  expand 
the  old  sacrificial  usage,  but  it  embodied  also  the  profounder 
moral  feehng  of  the  later  period.  Its  ritual  was  in  great 
part  the  organized  expression  of  the  consciousness  of  sin. 
The  ancient  mind,  Jewish  and  Gentile,  saw  the  most  definite 
and  satisfactory  atonement  for  sin  in  the  blood,  that  is,  in 
the  life,  of  a  victim.  There  were,  as  we  have  seen,  other  con- 
ceptions of  expiation,  as  through  the  suffering  of  the  of!ender, 
or  of  some  human  being  with  whom  the  offender  stood  in  close 
social  relation ;  but  the  visible  surrender  of  a  life  answered 
most  completely  to  the  existing  ideas  of  social-religious  order. 
It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  the  Law  embodied  this 
conception  as  the  national  form  of  deliverance  from  sin. 

But  the  Jewish  Law  made  no  attempt  to  provide  an  atone- 
ment for  all  sins ;  its  restriction  in  this  respect  is  noteworthy. 
The  offences  for  which  it  does  provide  are,  first,  sins  of  igno- 
rance (Lev.  iv.)  ;  and  secondly,  certain  slighter  ceremonial 
offences,  failure  to  testify  in  a  court  of  justice,  and  false  deal- 
ing in  money-matters  (Lev.  v.  vi.).  To  this  must  be  added 
the  expiation  of  the  great  day  of  atonement  (Lev.  xvi.),  which, 
however,  was  of  a  purely  national  character,  and  could  have 
had  no  bearing  on  individual  sins.  Offences  other  than  those 
above  mentioned  were  regarded  by  the  Jewish  Law  as  com- 
mitted against  society,  and  were  punished  accordingly.  So 
far  as  they  were  regarded  also  as  committed  against  God, 
they  were  expiated  only  by  the  punishnu^nt  inflicted  by  the 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  227 

state,  the  whole  law,  civil  and  religious,  being  the  enactment 
of  God.  The  regulations  respecting  expiation  belonged  only 
to  visible  sins  ;  the  Law  is  in  fact  substantially  a  civil  code, 
the  religious  ceremonial  itself  being  looked  on  as  part  of  the 
outward,  social  life.  Of  inward  sins,  transgressions  of  the 
law  of  purity  and  love,  which  belong  to  the  heart,  nothing  is 
said  ;  this  was  a  domain  which  the  national  legislation  did 
not  undertake  to.  enter.  Yet  it  recognized  the  idea  of  vica- 
rious atonement,  and  this  idea  had  a  wider  range  than  the 
book  of  Leviticus  would  indicate  ;  it  practically  included  in- 
tercession. Job  is  said  to  have  offered  burnt  offerings  for  all 
his  children,  fearing  that  they  might  have  sinned  (Job  i.  5) ; 
the  wrath  of  Yahwe  against  the  three  friends  is  turned  aside 
by  a  similar  sacrifice  (Job  xlii.  8).  The  author  of  the  Epistle 
to  the  Hebrews  (ix.  22)  declares  that  according  to  the  Law 
there  is  no  remission  without  shedding  of  blood;  and  this 
statement,  though  it  is  to  be  taken  with  the  restrictions 
above  mentioned,  yet  accurately  represents  the  prevailing 
ancient  idea  of  a  connection  between  forgiveness  of  sin  and 
the  blood  of  an  animal-sacrifice. 

But  the  Law  had  larger  consequences  than  its  mere  de- 
tails would  suggest.  It  cultivated  the  moral  sense  of  the 
people  into  results  above  its  mechanical  prescriptions.  It 
developed  the  sense  of  sin,  as  Paul  points  out  (Gal.  iii.  19), 
and  therewith  a  freer  feeling  which  brought  the  soul  into 
more  immediate  contact  with  God.  Apart  from  all  legal  pre- 
scriptions, the  pious  heart  cast  itself  on  the  mercy  of  God  : 
"Yahwe  is  merciful  and  gracious,  slow  to  anger  and  plen- 
teous in  mercy.  He  will  not  always  chide,  neither  will  he 
keep  his  anger  forever.  He  hath  not  dealt  with  us  after  our 
sins,  nor  rewarded  us  according  to  our  iniquities.  ...  As  far 
as  the  East  is  from  the  West,  so  far  hath  he  removed  our 
transgressions  from  us"  (Ps.  ciii.  8-10,12).  Sometimes  the 
appeal  to  God's  mercy  was  based  on  the  feeling  of  human 


228  SIN   AND   KIGHTEOUSNESS. 

weakness :  "  "What  is  man,  that  thou  shouldest  magnify  him 
and  set  thy  heart  on  liim,  that  thou  shouldest  visit  him  every 
morning  and  try  him  every  moment  ?  ...  If  I  have  sinned, 
what  can  I  do  to  thee,  0  thou  watcher  of  men  ?  .  .  .  Why 
dost  thou  not  pardon  my  transgression  and  take  away  mine 
iniquity  ?  for  now  I  shall  lie  down  in  the  dust,  and  thou 
shalt  seek  me  diligently,  but  I  shall  not  be"  (Job  vii.  17-21) ; 
"  Wilt  thou  harass  a  driven  leaf  ?  wilt  thou  pursue  the  dry 
stubble?"  (xiii.  25.)  "Man  that  is  born  of  a  woman  is  of 
few  days  and  full  of  trouble ;  he  comes  forth  like  a  flower 
and  withers,  he  flees  as  a  shadow  and  continues  not ;  and 
dost  thou  open  thine  eyes  on  such  an  one,  and  bringest  me 
into  judgment  with  thee  ?''  (xiv.  1-3.)  "  Eemember  not  the 
sins  of  my  youth  nor  my  transgressions  ;  according  to  thy 
lovingkindness  remember  me  for  thy  goodness'  sake "  (Ps. 
XXV.  7)  ;  "  Like  as  a  father  pities  his  children,  so  Yahwe 
pities  them  that  fear  him,  for  he  knows  our  frame,  he  re- 
members that  we  are  dust"  (Ps  ciii.  13,  14).  This  direct 
appeal  to  the  divine  mercy  is  connected  with  a  deeper  con- 
sciousness of  sin,  such  as  appears  in  Ps.  xxxii.  and  li  ;  "I 
said,  I  will  confess  my  transgressions  to  Yahwe,  and  thou  for- 
gavest  the  ini(^uity  of  my  sin  "  (Ps.  xxxii.  5) ;  "I  acknowledge 
my  transgressions,  and  my  sin  is  ever  before  me  "  (Ps.  li.  3). 

To  this  broader  conception  of  the  relation  between  God 
and  man  belongs  also  the  idea  of  human  mediation  for  sin 
(the  connection  of  which  with  the  Law  is  referred  to  above), 
as  when  Job  is  directed  to  pray  for  his  three  friends  (Job 
xlii.  8),  or  when  Samuel  says,  "Far  be  it  from  me  to  sin 
against  Yahwe  in  ceasing  to  pray  for  you"  (1  Sam.  xii.  23); 
or  the  prophet  Jeremiah  declares  that  even  the  intercession 
of  Moses  and  Samuel  would  not  avail  for  Israel  (Jer.  xv.  1 ). 
Such  mediation,  however,  was  not  confined  to  men,  if  we 
may  understand  Elihu's  interpreting  angel  (Job  xxxiii.  23, 
24)  as  interceding  with  God  for  the  afflicted  man.     This  idea 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  229 

of  mediation  for  the  sinner  by  men  or  angels,  though  a  per- 
fectly uataral  one,  does  not  find  frequent  expression  in  the 
Old  Testament^  or  in  the  Apocryphal  books. 

We  have  to  note  also  the  negative  attitude  maintained 
toward  the  system  of  sacrifice  by  the  great  Israelitish  teach- 
ers. The  pre-exilian  and  exilian  prophets,  though  they  in- 
sisted on  the  necessity  of  the  faithful  worship  of  Yahwe, 
discerned  what  was  superficial  and  false  in  the  offerings  (in 
contrast  with  true  ethical  service),  and  denounced  it  as  hate- 
ful to  God  :  "I  hate,  I  despise  your  feasts,  and  take  no  de- 
light in  your  solemn  assemblies  ;  yea,  though  you  offer  me 
your  burnt  offerings  and  meal  offerings,  I  will  not  accept 
them,  nor  will  I  regard  the  peace  offerings  of  your  fat  beasts  ; 
take  away  from  me  the  noise  of  your  songs,  for  I  will  not 
hear  the  melody  of  thy  viols"  (Amos  v.  21-23);  "To  what 
purpose  is  the  multitude  of  your  sacrifices  to  me  ?  says 
Yahwe.  ...  I  delight  not  in  the  blood  of  bullocks  "  (Isa.  i. 
11);  "Will  Yahwe  be  pleased  with  thousands  of  rams,  with 
myriads  of  rivers  of  oil  ?  Shall  I  give  my  first-born  for  my 
transgression,  the  fruit  of  my  body  for  the  sin  of  my  soul  ? " 
(Mic.  vi.  7) ;  "I  spake  not  to  your  fathers,  nor  commanded 
them  in  the  day  that  I  brought  them  out  of  tlie  land  of 
Egypt  concerning  burnt  offerings  or  sacrifices  "  (Jer.  vii.  22). 
A  similar  antagonism  or  negative  attitude,  which  in  the  pro- 
phetic writings  is  based  on  moral  grounds,  appears  in  some 
of  the  Psalms  as  tlie  result  of  a  like  ethical  feeling  combined 
with  spirituality  of  thought  :  "  Sacrifice  and  offering  thou 
hast  no  delight  in ;  .  .  .  burnt  offering  and  sin  offering  thou 
hast  not  required"  (Vs.  xl.  6).  In  Ps.  I,  God's  indifference 
toward  sacrifices  is  based  on  his  exalted  position  as  Lord 
of  the  world  and  on  the  pre-eminence  of  his  moral  func- 
tions :  "  I  will  take  no  bullock  out  of  thy  house,  nor  he- 

^  We  may  compare  the  functions  of  the  guardian  angels  in  the  book  of 
Daniel  (x.  20,  21j. 


230  SIX   AND   lUGHTEOUSNESS. 

goats  out  of  thy  folds  ;  for  every  beast  of  the  forest  is  mine, 
tlie  cattle  on  the  mountains  ;  I  know  all  the  birds  of  the 
m(juntaius,  and  the  roamers  of  the  plain  are  in  my  mind  ; 
if  I  were  hungry,  I  would  not  tell  thee,  for  the  world  is  mine 
and  the  fullness  thereof;  will  I  eat  the  tlesh  of  bulls  or 
drink  the  blood  of  goats  ? "  (vs.  9-13).  We  have  here  the 
germ  of  a  feeling  expressed  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews 
(x.  4j  that  it  is  impossible  that  the  blood  of  bulls  and  goats 
should  take  away  sin.  But  while  the  author  of  the  Epistle 
insists  on  the  worthlessness  of  such  sacrifices  in  order  that 
he  may  substitute  another  better  sacrifice  (quoting,  curiously 
enough,  Ps.  xl.  6,  7,  in  support  of  his  position),  the  prophets 
and  psalmists  are  only  concerned  with  the  insufficiency  of 
this  outward  act  as  contrasted  with  the  inward  service  of 
the  soul.  The  two  movements  toward  elaboration  of  the  rit- 
ual of  sacrifice,  and  direct  appeal  of  the  soul  to  God,  went 
hand  in  hand,  each  responding  to  a  need  of  the  human  heart. 
The  body  of  the  nation  felt  that,  in  its  moral  weakness,  it 
could  not  dispense  with  some  intermediary  between  man's 
feeble  life  and  the  august  holiness  of  God.  And  on  the  other 
hand,  there  were  moments  of  exaltation  for  pious  souls  when 
this  same  conception  of  the  divine  purity  made  all  bodily 
intercession  seem  worthless,  and  drove  the  worshipper  to  cast 
himself  on  the  supreme  attribute  of  Israel's  God,  —  his  pitiful- 
ness  and  lovingkindness.  Repentance  was  iudeed  demanded 
as  the  condition  of  forgiveness :  "  Pardon  my  iniquity,  for  it 
is  great"  (Ps.  xxv.  11);  "I  said,  T  will  confess  my  trans- 
gressions to  Yahwe,  and  thou  forgavest  the  iniquity  of  my 
."in  "  (Ps.  xxxii.  5)  ;  "  Against  thee,  thee  only  have  I  sinned, 
and  done  tliat  which  is  evil  in  thy  sight"  (Ps.  li.  4).  Such 
was  tlie  condition,  announced  by  John  the  P>aptist  and  Jesus, 
of  entrance  into  the  kingdom  of  God  (Mark  i.  4, 15).  Tliose 
two  elements  of  the  Old  Testament  thought  —  the  inward 
preparation  of  the  soul  through  repentance  and  the  outward 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  231 

preparation  through  mtercession  —  the  Christian  Church  en- 
deavored, with  more  or  less  success,  to  combine  in  its  re- 
ligious consciousness  into  a  unity. 

The  extra-canonical  books  add  nothing  of  importance  to 
the  Old  Testament  ideas.  The  scheme  of  temple  sacrifices 
continued  as  before,  only  with  some  small  additions  to  the 
ceremonial.  Still,  there  are  hints  that  the  old  mechanical 
conception  of  atonement  was  undergoing  a  gradual  trans- 
formation through  all  the  influences  that  affected  the  eth- 
ical thought  of  the  nation.  The  books  of  this  period  that 
have  come  down  to  us  are  chiefly  the  products  of  messianic 
or  other  purely  national  interest.  But  the  synagogues  and 
legal  scliools  nourished  other  ideas,  spiritual  and  ethical. 
The  conception  of  sin  as  an  offence  against  the  absolute 
right,  or  against  the  will  of  God,  held  to  be  identical  with 
the  absolute  right,  shows  itself  in  sayings  attributed  to  the 
great  teachers,  and  in  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon.  Atonement 
for  sin  was,  from  this  point  of  view,  held  to  lie  in  right- 
doing.  This  idea  (in  which  non- Jewish  influence  is  discern- 
ible) was  not  definitely  formulated,  but  colors  such  works  as 
Wisdom  and  the  treatises  of  Philo,  and  was  doubtless  not 
without  effect  on  portions  of  the  New  Testament. 

The  point  of  view  of  Jesus  himself  was  substantially  that 
of  the  pre-exilian  prophets.  He  recognized  the  existing  sys- 
tem of  national  sacrifices  (Luke  xvii.  14 ;  John  v.  1 ;  Matt, 
xxiii.  2,  3),  and,  according  to  the  First  Gospel,  declared  that 
he  had  come  not  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil,  the  Law  and  the 
prophets,  and  that  no  man  could  without  blame  ignore  one 
of  the  smallest  commandments  of  the  INIosaic  legislation 
(Matt.  v.  17, 19).^    On  the  other  hand,  in  defence  of  a  larger 

^  Some  critics  regard  this  last  utterance  as  belonging  not  to  Jesus,  but  to 
a  Judaizing  editor  of  the  Matthew-Gospel,  and  intended  as  a  protest  against 
the  supposed  Pauline  hostility  to  the  Law.  In  any  case,  it  testifies  to  a  pro- 
found respect  for  the  Mosaic  legislation  in  a  section  of  the  Church  of  the  first 
century. 


232  SIX   AND   KIGHTEOUSNESS. 

iu.eqjretation  of  the  Law,  he  adduced  the  example  of  the 
priests  themselves,  and  cited  (Matt.  xii.  5,  7)  the  words  of 
the  prophet  Hosea  :  "  I  desire  mercy  and  not  sacrifice  "  (Hos. 
vi.  6).  But,  above  all,  the  pure  ethical-spiritual  view  which 
he  taught  (as  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount)  of  man's  re- 
lation to  God  contained  the  germs  of  the  destruction  of 
the  mechanical  legal-sacrificial  system,  —  a  work  which,  not 
undertaken  by  him,  was  accomplished  by  the  great  apostle, 
who  most  truly  represented  and  embodied  in  deeds  the  spirit 
of  the  Master. 

The  early  disciples  doubtless  followed  the  example  of  their 
Master  in  maintaining  allegiance  to  the  temple-service.  Tliis 
is  the  impression  made  by  Acts  i.-v.,  where  Peter  and  John 
go  to  the  temple  at  the  hour  of  prayer  (iii.  1),  and  Gama- 
liel's speech  (v.  38,  39)  does  not  seem  to  contemplate  a  fun- 
damental schism  ;  and  later  there  is  even  an  account  (xxi. 
20-26)  of  Paul's  taking  part  in  a  purification-offering.^  This 
feeling  would  naturally  survive  longest  among  the  Pales- 
tinian Christians  ;  elsewhere  the  bonds  which  united  the 
Church  to  the  old  faith  were  weakened  by  distance  and  by 
the  incoming  of  Gentiles.  The  construction  of  the  death  of 
Jesus  as  sacrificial  did  away  with  the  old  system  of  animal- 
offering.  This  was  not  a  change  of  the  fundamental  idea, 
but  only  of  the  nature  of  the  offering.  It  was  still  held 
that  the  removal  of  sin  and  guilt  was  affected  by  the  shed- 
ding of  blood.  But  the  greater  dignity  of  the  victim  corre- 
sponded to  a  deeper  sense  of  the  evil  of  sin  ;  the  conception 
of  atonement  was  held  in  a  more  distinctly  ethical  way.  It 
is  in  the  writings  of  Paul  (Gal.  i.  4,  etc.)  that  we  first  meet 
with  the  statement  of  the  sacrificial  nature  of  the  IMessiah's 


^  It  is  not  intended  by  this  to  decide  on  the  general  question  of  the  histor- 
ical trustworthiness  of  the  book  of  Acts,  but  only  to  infer  from  tlie  passages 
quoted  the  existence  of  a  belief  tiiat  tlie  early  ("liurch  had  not  conij)lctely 
broken  with  the  temple-rituul. 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  233 

death  ;  and  we  may  suppose  that  he  and  others  were  led 
to  this  view  by  their  conception  of  the  exalted  function  of 
the  glorified  Messiah  in  conjunction  with  their  adherence  to 
the  Old  Testament  idea  of  atonement.  Jesus  had  departed 
from  the  world  and  been  raised  to  the  right  hand  of  God  as 
Saviour,  whence  he  would  soon  return  to  deliver  his  people. 
What  function,  in  the  divine  scheme,  could  be  assigned  to 
his  death  but  that  of  expiation  of  sin,  which  the  Scripture 
connected  with  the  blood  of  a  victim  ?  That  the  old  legal 
view  had  a  strong  hold  on  a  part  of  the  Church  appears 
from  the  earnestness  with  which  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews 
endeavors  to  prove  that  Christianity  really  retained  the  ideas 
of  the  ancient  system,  only  substituting  for  its  forms  more 
perfect  forms,  merging  the  type  in  the  antitype. 

4.  The  positive  side  of  the  ethical  relation  between  man 
and  God  is  given  in  the  idea  of  righteousness ;  and  we  have 
now  to  ask  wherein  righteousness  consisted  and  how  it  was 
acquired. 

We  need  not  stop  to  examine  special  shades  of  meaning 
of  the  various  terms  employed  in  the  Old  Testament  to  ex- 
press the  idea  of  moral  goodness.  They  all  go  back  finally 
to  the  conception  of  some  standard  of  conduct  which  is  re- 
ferred to  God  as  its  author.  Such  is  the  usage  of  the  Old 
Testament  in  the  form  in  which  we  now  have  it,  as  the  pro- 
duction of  men  who  lived  and  wrote  in  a  relatively  high  eth- 
ical-religious atmosphere.  In  the  earlier,  unreflective  time, 
a  good  man  was  one  who  conformed  to  the  somewhat  rude 
ethical  ideas  of  the  community.  He  might  be  a  warrior  like 
Jephtha,  who  was  relentless  toward  his  enemies  and  capa- 
ble of  sacrificing  his  own  daughter  in  fulfilment  of  a  vow  ; 
but  if  he  fulfilled  the  moral  demands  of  the  time,  he  was 
accounted  righteous.  From  the  beginning,  the  accepted  sys- 
tem of  ethics  was  identified  in  a  general  way  with  the  will 
of  the  deity,  since  God  could  not  be  conceived  of  as  re- 


234  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

quiring  anything  else  than  that  wliich  the  best  moral  sense 
of  the  community  called  for.     There  was  a  double  progress  : 
the  ethical  standard  was  gradually  raised,  and  at  the  same 
time  the  identification  of  righteousness  with  the  will  of  the 
deity  became  more  and  more  systematic  and  conscious.    'Ihis 
will  was  at  first  announced  occasionally  and  fragmentarily 
by  the  priests  and  the  prophets,  and  then  more  definitely  em- 
bodied in  legal  codes.     The  elements  of  the  prophetic  preach- 
ing of  righteousness  were  two :  the  worship  of  Yahwe  alone, 
and  obedience  to  the  rules  of  social  ethics.     This  is  the  con- 
trolling view  in  the  Old  Testament ;  it  is  the  necessary  prod- 
uct of  experience  and  reflection,  and  at  the  same  time  the 
simplest  and  broadest  theory  of  life  regarded  as  a  mass  of 
actions.     The  prcjphets  always  treat  idolatry  in  connection 
with  its  moral  accompaniments  ;  for  them  it  was  not  only 
disloyalty  to  the  God  of  Israel,  but  also  inevitably  the  occa- 
sion of  moral  offence.      It  was  a  sin  against  the  covenant 
which  God  had  made  with  his  people  ;  it  was  an  alliance 
with  the  immoral  habits  of  the  surrounding  peoples.     Their 
judgment  on  this  point  is  to  be  taken  with  some  degree  of 
allowance.     There  was  ground  for  it  in  the  fact  that  the 
Canaanitish  worship  contained  licentious  elements  ;  on  the 
other  hand,  their  own  writings  show  that  the  body  of  Israel- 
itish   sin  sprang  out  of   Israelitisli   society,   out  of   human 
weakness,  independently  of   the  particular   form   of  divine 
service  which  was  followed.     The  prophets,  however,  were 
guided  by  a  true  instinct  in  their  opposition  to  idolatry  on 
moral  grounds.     The  Israelitish  religious  genius  was  to  de- 
velop a  moral  code  more  strenuous  than  that  of  their  neigh- 
bors, and  national  development  in  this,  as  in  all  other  points, 
was  favored  by  isolation.     Idolatry  —  or,  to  state  it  more 
precisely  according  to  the   Old  Testament   conception,  the 
acknowledgment  of  any  other  god  but  Yahwe  —  was  a  con- 
fusing and  disintegrating  fact      From  our  point  of  view,  it 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  235 

was  in  itself  morally  indifferent,  though  an  occasion  of  moral 
loss ;  to  the  prophets,  it  was  treason  against  the  national 
idea  and  the  national  deity,  itself  a  heinous  sin,  and  the 
source  of  all  impurities.  The  introduction  of  a  written  code 
(Ex.  xxi.-xxiii.,  ninth  or  eighth  century,  and  Deuteronomy, 
end  of  seventh  century)  served  to  define  the  moral  stand- 
ard and  to  make  the  moral  life  more  precise.  Nor  is  it 
an  accident  that  along  with  this  more  definite  expression 
of  ethical-religious  law  we  find  the  first  traces  of  a  more 
spiritual  conception  of  righteousness  in  the  "  new  heart "  of 
Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel.  Deeper  refiection  on  the  inner  expe- 
riences of  man  and  the  recognition  of  a  higher  standard  of 
life  led  the  better  religious  thinkers  to  the  conviction  that 
true  righteousness  could  not  be  defined  merely  as  a  series  of 
acts  of  obedience  ;  that  it  must  proceed  from  a  heart  whose 
impulses  were  in  harmony  with  the  divine  standard  of  right. 
Here,  then,  we  have  the  two  tendencies  which  from  this  time 
on  determined  the  ethical-religious  development  of  Judaism 
and  then  of  Christianity.  Both  are  founded  in  human  na- 
ture, and  represent  real  and  necessary  elements  of  the  moral 
life.  Each  had  its  period  of  supremacy ;  the  highest  result 
was  gained  when  tlie  two  were  completely  harmonized  in  the 
religious  consciousness. 

The  same  conception  appears  in  the  Psalms,  but  intenser 
and  more  elaborated.  The  Psalter  is  the  product  of  deep  na- 
tional distress.  It  was  in  the  Greek  period,  and  especially  in 
the  second  century  B.  c,  that  the  Jews  first  felt  the  poignancy 
of  foreign  oppression.  They  had  been  contented  vassals  of 
Assyrians,  Babylonians,  and  Persians,  who  recognized  and  re- 
spected their  religion.  By  the  end  of  the  third  century  they 
had  grown  into  a  church  ;  their  national  existence  lost,  they 
clung  to  their  religious  faith  with  a  reverence  and  devotion 
all  the  more  intense  ;  they  lived  in  the  midst  of  aliens,  who 
oppressed  them  in  person  and  property  and  derided  their 


236  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

religion.  Thus  driven  into  religious  isolation,  they  fell  back 
on  God  and  their  own  souls;  minute  outward  obedience  to 
the  divine  commands  came  more  and  more  to  be  recog- 
nized as  the  mark  of  righteousness,  but  at  the  same  time  the 
conviction  grew  stronger  of  the  need  of  inward  purity,  of 
the  ripeness  of  the  heart  toward  God.  The  authors  of  the 
Fifteenth  and  Twenty-Fourth  Psalms  define  the  ethical  con- 
ditions of  alliance  with  the  people  of  God ;  Ps.  cxix.  is  the 
Ode  of  the  Law,  whicli  is  extolled  as  the  perfection  of  truth 
and  the  infallible  guide  of  life  and'  source  of  happiness  ;  the 
author  of  Ps.  li.,  in  his  deep  consciousness  of  sin  and  desire 
of  oneness  with  God,  cries  out  for  a  new  heart,  asking  noth- 
ing less  than  that  God  would  re-fashion  the  very  spring  and 
essence  of  his  moral-religious  life. 

Corresponding  with  this  double  sense  of  the  nature  of 
righteousness  was  the  twofold  view  of  its  source,  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  it  was  to  be  achieved.  The  simpler,  earlier 
view  was  that  it  was  gained  by  man's  effort,  by  the  free 
determination  of  his  will.  Men  were  held  to  differ  in  the 
attitude  of  their  will  toward  right  ;  the  final  exposition 
of  human  conduct  was  that  some  men  loved  and  others 
hated  the  law  of  God.  The  later  view,  springing  from  the 
conviction  of  human  weakness,  was  that  man  needed  the 
power  of  God  in  his  soul.  The  Old  Testament  utterances  on 
this  point  are  indeed  restricted,  being  too  much  controlled 
by  nationalism.  The  interest  of  the  prophets  was  centred 
in  the  nation  as  a  whole,  and  the  relation  of  God  to  the 
people  was  one  rather  of  "  favor  "  than  of  "  grace."  He  was 
pledged  by  his  choice  and  covenant  to  bless  Israel  witli  out- 
ward prosperity  and  the  knowledge  of  his  will ;  but  indi- 
vidual morality  was  taken  for  granted,  and  the  presence  of 
the  divine  spirit  as  an  illumining  and  regenerating  power 
in  the  individual  soul  was  not  distinctly  thought  of.  In 
the  period  of  storm  and  stress  in  the  second  century  b.  c, 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  237 

though  individualism  had  been  largely  developed,  the  nation 
was  still  the  fundamental  unit;  righteousness  was  the  con- 
dition of  citizenship  in  the  Church  (Pss.  xxiv.,  ci.,cf.  Ixxxvii.); 
and  while,  as  we  have  seen,  there  were  individuals  who  clung 
passionately  to  the  divine  spirit  as  the  source  of  life,  for  the 
most  the  essential  point  was  obedience  to  law  secured  by 
right  disposition  of  mind. 

The  introduction  of  the  definitely  formulated  Law  was  a 
turning-point  in  the  history  of  Judaism,  —  the  ground  at 
once  of  its  success  and  of  its  failure.  The  Law  prepared 
the  way  for  Christianity,  and  at  the  same  time  repelled  the 
Jewish  nation  from  the  Christian  reconstruction  of  the  idea 
of  law.  Judaism,  the  Jewish  Church,  is  nomism,  the  em- 
bodiment of  devotion  to  a  fixed  rule  of  belief  and  conduct. 
Other  communities  of  that  time,  and  especially  the  Eomans, 
had  developed  systems  of  life  resting  on  legal  standards ;  it 
was  only  the  Jews  who  identified  law  with  religion.  Jew- 
ish nomism  has  two  elements,  —  that  which  is  common  to 
all  legally  organized  societies,  and  that  which  springs  from 
the  religious  genius  of  the  nation  acting  in  conjunction  with 
certain  favorable  circumstances.  The  fusion  of  the  civil  and 
religious  codes  began  at  an  early  period :  it  appears  in  the 
law-book  of  E\'.  xxi.-xxiii.,  then  in  Deuteronomy,  then  in 
the  legislation  of  the  middle  books  of  the  Pentateuch,  and 
finally  in  the  Talmud.  The  civil-religious  law  sprang  out 
of  the  national  life,  was  built  np,  generation  after  genera- 
tion, according  to  national  needs,  and  finally,  after  the  time 
of  Ezra  and  Nehemiah,  effected  a  social-ecclesiastical  organ- 
ization, —  in  other  words,  the  nation  assumed  the  form  of  a 
church.  There  were  internal  and  external  grounds  for  this 
movement.  The  internal  ground  was  the  religious  instinct 
of  the  nation,  —  that  inexplicable  necessity  which  it  felt 
for  realizing  and  defining  its  relation  to  God,  —  an  instinct 
common   indeed  to   all   nations,  but   assuming   among   the 


238  SIN   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

Jews  proportions  which  we  can  no  more  explain  than  we 
can  account  for  the  genius  of  Plato  and  Shakespeare.  No 
otlier  nation  produced  an  order  of  prophets.  The  flower 
of  the  Athenian  mind  devoted  itself  to  literature,  art,  and 
philosophy ;  the  highest  and  noblest  Jewish  thought  was 
consecrated  to  religion.  The  prophets  passed  away,  and 
were  succeeded  by  lyric  poets,  students  of  practical  life  and 
schools  of  law ;  but  all  these,  no  less  than  their  predeces- 
sors, were  inspired  by  the  idea  of  religion.  From  the  be- 
lief that  God  was  the  only  law-giver,  it  was  but  a  step  to 
the  conviction  that  the  national  life  was  to  be  absolutely 
regulated  by  the  divine  will.  The  attainment  of  this  end 
was  favored  in  a  remarkable  manner  by  the  outward  con- 
ditions of  the  nation.  From  the  Babylonian  e.xile  on,  they 
were  inured  to  the  idea  of  political  dependence,  —  they  were 
forced  more  and  more  to  see  that  their  life  as  a  State  was 
crushed  beyond  hope  of  resuscitation,  and  all  the  energy 
wliich  would  otherwise  have  gone  into  affairs  of  civil  gov- 
ernment was  given  to  ecclesiastical  organization.  It  is  a 
proof  of  the  intense  vitality  of  the  Jewish  people  that  they 
did  not,  like  the  surrounding  communities,  succumb  to  the 
oppression  of  foreign  political  domination.  Their  energy 
came  from,  or  was  in  closest  union  with,  their  conscious- 
ness of  possession  of  liighest  truth  and  their  liope  of  a  bril- 
liant future.  Thus  their  political  annihilation  was  favorable 
to  their  religious  growth  ;  it  was  an  isolation  from  the  great 
world,  which  permitted  them  to  sink  themselves  in  religion, 
like  a  scholar  who  retreats  to  a  monastery  or  a  cave  in  order 
to  give  himself  up  to  study.  Their  freedom  from  political 
complications  gave  them  greater  liberty  in  the  elaboration 
of  their  religious-legal  material ;  they  had  to  consult  the  in- 
terests of  no  king  or  noble,  the  demands  of  no  foreign  inter- 
course, but  worked  out  their  scheme  in  an  ideally  rounded 
shape  which  would  have  been  impossible  for  a  community 


SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  239 

standing  in  lively  political  intercourse  with  its  neighbors. 
Add  to  all  this  the  smalluess  of  the  territory  in  which  the 
Jews  found  themselves  after  their  return  from  Babylon.  Ee- 
ligious  centralization  was  comparatively  easy  when  no  inhab- 
itant of  the  land  was  more  than  a  few  hours'  journey  from 
Jerusalem.  A  rigidity  of  organization  was  effected  which 
would  have  been  impossible  in  a  larger  community.  This 
state  of  things  gradually  changed,  it  is  true,  but  not  before 
Judea  worked  out  the  fundamental  principles  and  methods 
of  the  nomistic  life. 

The  Jewish  Law  was  a  mass  of  prescriptions,  civil,  moral, 
religious,  ceremonial,  —  an  attempt  to  define  all  the  beliefs 
and  acts  of  life.  What  we  commonly  call  the  Law  is  the 
body  of  legislation  contained  in  the  Pentateuch  ;  that  is, 
the  form  which  the  code  assumed  in  the  time  of  Ezra  and 
Nehemiah.  In  fact,  however,  the  Law  came  in  later  times 
to  include  much  more  than  this  :  as  the  legislation  of  Ezra 
was  a  development  of  earlier  material,  so  it  became  the  basis 
for  a  succeeding  development,  —  courts  and  schools  of  law 
added  much  by  way  of  interpretation  and  application,  which 
became  as  binding  as  the  words  attributed  to  Moses.  A 
dividing  line  was  made,  it  is  true,  by  the  canonical  books  ; 
the  Pentateuch  was  the  text,  all  else  was  commentary.  But 
in  the  feeling  of  teachers  and  people,  the  commentary  was 
no  less  authoritative  than  the  text.  The  whole  was  a  lofty 
attempt  to  order  the  social,  religious,  and  political  life  of  a 
nation,  to  create  an  absolute  external  standard  of  right.  In 
such  an  attempt  there  is  nothing  necessarily  unnatural  or 
wrong.  Law  is  a  necessity  for  human  life.  The  highest 
effort  of  individuals  and  nations  is  found  in  the  discipline 
which  tends  to  bring  them  under  the  control  of  a  true  and 
high  standard  of  conduct ;  perfection  consists  in  the  har- 
mony of  the  human  will  with  the  perfect  law.  But  the 
attempt  to  devise  and  impose  an  absolutely  controlling  ex- 


240  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

ternal  standard  is  confronted  by  two  difficulties  :  it  is  im- 
possible for  man  to  construct  a  perfect  law,  and  even  that 
which  is  relatively  perfect  for  one  generation  is  in  danger 
of  losing  its  pertinency  for  the  next ;  and  what  is  more  seri- 
ous, the  law  does  not  in  itself  supply  the  motive  of  con- 
duct,—  tends,  indeed,  by  emphasizing  the  outward  standard, 
to  attract  the  will  from  that  inward  love  and  devotion  Avhicli 
is  the  mainspring  of  the  moral-religious  life. 

The  Jews  made  the  experiment  of  nomism  under  most 
favorable  conditions,  and  with  an  unexampled  fulness  of  ex- 
perience. The  Law  got  a  hold  on  the  affections  of  the  people 
of  which  history  furnishes  no  other  instance.  Neither  Mos- 
lems nor  Parsees  ever  exhibited  such  a  thoroughgoing  and 
intelligent  devotion  to  their  sacred  books  and  their  systems 
of  life  as  appears  for  many  centuries  in  the  history  of  the 
Jews.  The  One  Hundred  and  Nineteenth  Psalm  embodies 
the  reverential  delight  which  the  pious  Jew  experienced  in 
the  presence  of  the  perfect  instruction  granted  by  the  God 
of  Israel  to  his  chosen  people.  The  nation  embodied  this 
reverence  in  its  heroic  resistance  to  the  Greek-Syrian  en- 
croachments of  the  second  century.  The  Maccabean  strug- 
gle was  a  religious  war  waged  to  maintain  liberty  of  belief 
and  practice,  liberty  to  obey  the  law  given  by  God  to  the 
fathers.  The  struggle  was  successful ;  nor  in  after  times 
was  any  combination  of  circumstances  able  to  alienate  the 
Jew  from  his  law.  Foreign  oppression,  pohtical  annihilation, 
dispersion  over  the  world,  social  contempt  and  degradation 
had  the  effect  only  of  driving  the  people  to  a  more  passion- 
ate love  for  that  which  they  conceived  to  constitute  their 
everlasting  glory.  If  ever  a  nation  was  faithful  to  an  idea, 
the  Jews  were  faithful  to  the  conception  of  legally  ordered 
life  ;  and  they  enjoyed  the  fruits  of  their  devotion,  good  and 
bad.  They  reached  an  unequalled  fulness  and  rigidity  of 
social-religious  organization.     The  sharp-sighted  earnestness 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  241 

with  which  they  watched  over  the  details  of  life,  the  in- 
terest they  threw  into  the  discussion  and  determination 
of  niinutise  of  faith  and  practice  may  be  compared  with 
the  metaphysical  enthusiasm  of  the  Scottish  people.  It  is 
not  to  be  supposed  that  all  the  individuals  of  the  Jewish 
nation  were  equally  interested  in  these  questions  ;  it  was 
the  select  few  who  were  prominent.  The  masses  may  often 
have  seemed  indifferent,  and  a  Pharisee  might  even  de- 
nounce the  people  as  accursed  through  their  ignorance  of 
the  Law  (John  vii.  49) ;  but  the  leaders  gave  the  tone  to 
the  national  feeling,  —  the  life  of  the  Jewish  nation  was 
ordered  by  religious  law.  Thus  the  people  enjoyed  those 
benefits  which  result  from  habits  of  organized  study,  — 
intelligence,  alertness,  definiteness  of  opinion,  decision  of 
conduct ;  and  this  training  of  life  moved  on  a  high  moral- 
religious  level.  The  ethical  and  religious  ideals  of  the  Jews 
were  in  general  superior  to  those  of  their  neighbors ;  their 
God  was  just  and  righteous.  Their  ethics  not  only  included 
the  laws  of  ordinnry  social  morality,  but  was  moving  toward 
more  spiritual  principles  of  sympathy  and  love,  and  their 
religious  ideas  were  growing  broader  and  purer.  Such  is 
the  bright  side  of  the  Jewish  nomistic  development,  —  tlie 
creation  of  a  self  centred,  well-balanced,  intelligent,  and 
strenuous  moral-religious  life,  illustrated  by  many  shining 
examples  of  lofty  probity  and  spiritual  piety. 

On  the  other  hand,  nomism  brought  its  inevitable  evils. 
The  consciousness  of  superior  privileges  and  enlightenment 
called  forth  a  national  and  individual  pride  which  was  hos- 
tile to  moral-religious  growth.  The  Jews  had  a  far  more 
definite  historical  feeling  than  their  neighbors.  Their  rec- 
ords went  back  to  a  remote  antiquity,  and  their  history  was 
an  embodiment  of  the  fact  that  the  one  Suprem.e  God  had 
chosen  them  from  the  beginning  to  be  his  own,  and  had  with- 
out ceasing  guided  their  fortunes  toward  a  glorious  future, 

16 


242  SIN   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

which  was  not  the  less  sure  because  the  present  was  dark. 
Natural  satisfaction  in  so  remarkable  a  career  had  grown,  by 
the  beginning  of  the  second  century  B.  C,  into  overweening 
pride.  The  world  was  divided  into  Jews  and  not-Jevvs.  The 
leading  minds  of  the  nation  cherished  a  lofty  scorn  of  for- 
eign thought  and  civilization.  A  part  of  the  people,  indeed, 
were  allured  by  the  splendors  of  Greek  life,  and  forsook  the 
faith  of  their  fathers ;  but  this  partial  apostasy  only  served 
to  intensify  the  zeal  and  the  unrelenting  hate  of  the  faithful. 
To  the  pious  of  the  second  century  the  Greeks  were  the  em- 
bodiment of  everything  sensual  and  devilish.^  This  hatred 
of  national  enemies  was  not  new:  it  appears  in  exilian  proph- 
ecies (Isa.  xxxiv.  45  ;  Jer.  1.,  li. ),  and  was  to  appear  later  in 
the  struggles  with  the  Romans  and  other  peoples.  It  was 
in  itself  a  morally  injurious  attitude,  though  for  the  rest  one 
not  confined  to  the  Jews.  It  had  the  further  effect  of  tend- 
ing to  isolate  the  people  from  foreign  thought,  and  in  so  far 
of  dwarfing  their  intellectual  growth.  The  isolation  was  not 
and  could  not  be  complete.  The  traces  of  foreign  intkience 
on  Jewish  thought  cannot  fail  to  be  recognized  ;  but  the 
isolation,  so  far  as  it  existed,  was  an  evil  thing  for  the  Jews. 
It  closed  their  eyes  to  the  defects  of  their  law,  and  made 
them  as  zealous  for  the  wrong  as  for  the  right;  and  it  ex- 
cluded them  from  a  share  in  certain  better  ideas  wliich  they 
might  have  learned  from  their  neighbors. 

A  more  serious  defect  of  the  nomistic  scheme  —  one  that 
entered  deeper  into  the  moral-religious  life  —  was  the  exter- 
nalism  which  it  tended  to  produce.  The  natural  result  of 
complete  devotion  to  an  external  law  was  the  breaking  up 
of  life  into  minute  details,  the  loss  of  unity  and  the  loss 
of  spirituality.  The  biblical  code  was  comparatively  simple 
so  far  as  the  conduct  of  daily  life  was  concerned  ;  but  the 

1  See  First  and  Second  Maccalicos  and  the  Silnlline  Oracles,  ])assim.  A 
similar  feeling  appears  in  the  first  chapter  of  Konians. 


Sm  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  243 

application  of  the  principles  of  the  Law,  guided  by  zealous 
consciences,  led  gradually  to  the  multiplication  of  partic- 
ulars bearing  on  all  the  acts  of  life.  The  full  development 
of  this  scheme  is  found  in  the  Talmud ;  but  we  may  be  sure, 
on  general  grounds  and  from  the  hints  given  in  the  New 
Testament,  that  much  of  it  was  already  in  existence  at  the 
beginning  of  our  era.  The  frame  of  mind  of  the  pious  Jew 
of  that  period  must  have  been  one  of  frequent  anxiety  lest 
he  should  omit  something  that  was  essential  to  righteous- 
ness ;  for  the  most  unhappy  result  of  this  developed  scheme 
of  law  was  the  definition  which  it  gave  of  righteousness  as 
obedience  to  a  mass  of  precepts.  Power  of  spiritual  discrim- 
ination and  purity  of  spiritual  life  were  dimmed  and  dulled. 
The  prescriptions  of  the  Law  included  duties  of  the  most 
various  kinds,  ceremonial,  moral,  and  religious,  insignificant 
details  of  ceremonial  cleanliness  standing  side  by  side  with 
most  important  ethical  rules  and  religious  principles.  Men 
became  habituated  to  looking  at  the  Law  as  a  whole.  The 
principle  was  established  that  he  who  offended  in  one  point 
was  guilty  of  all  (James  ii.  10).  It  was  inevitable  also  that 
the  ceremonial  side  of  the  Law,  because  it  was  visible  and 
tangible,  should  assume  constantly  increasing  proportions, 
and  tend  to  cramp  or  expel  broader  principles.  The  human 
mind  is  so  constituted  that,  provided  an  outward  show  of 
duty  is  maintained,  men  are  content  to  slur  over  the  inner 
life,  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart,  which  are  invis- 
ible to  their  fellows,  and  which  they  cannot  be  summoned 
before  a  human  tribunal  to  account  for.  It  is  the  history  of 
all  religious  organizations,  only  more  patent  and  developed 
in  the  Jews  of  this  time. 

Casuistry  came  in  as  the  natural  accompaniment  of  this 
outward  scheme  of  righteousness.  Where  there  was  an  in- 
tellectual assent  to  obligation  without  the  full  assent  of  the 
heart,  the  temptation  would  arise  to  get  rid  of  oppressive 


244  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

duties  by  an  ingenious  process  of  reasoning,  by  substituting 
the  pleasant  for  the  unpleasant,  and  explaining  away  what 
was  disagreeable  by  the  pretence  of  higher  obligation.  There 
is  no  more  sacred  duty  than  care  for  one's  parents  ;  but  a 
man  might  declare  that  money  which  should  have  been  so 
appropriated  was  devoted  to  God,  and  so  withhold  it  from 
father  and  mother,  while  by  an  ingenious  device  he  enjoyed 
the  use  of  it  for  himself  (Mark  vii.  10-13).  There  were  sim- 
ilar shifts  for  dispensing  with  other  acknowledged  duties. 
It  was  debauching  the  conscience  in  the  name  of  religion. 
It  was  a  phenomenon  of  the  same  sort  as  that  which  Pascal 
describes  in  the  "Provincial  Letters."  Such  Jews  were  in 
the  moral  position  of  school-boys  who  consider  themselves 
justified  in  evading  the  master's  rules  by  any  device  which 
is  likely  to  escape  punishment.  It  amounted  so  far  to  a 
paralysis  of  the  moral  sense.  Fortunately,  such  tendencies 
bring  their  own  cure. 

Such  a  scheme  tended  to  depress  spirituality.  It  obscured 
the  fundamental  principle  of  life,  that  goodness  consists  in 
the  attitude  of  the  soul  toward  the  right.  It  metamorphosed 
God  into  a  list  of  commands,  and  life  into  a  chaos  of  obe- 
diences. It  was  slavery  to  the  letter  of  the  Law.  It  dwarfed 
the  liberty  of  the  soul  by  repressing  its  instinct  of  love.  It 
took  away  the  ideal  of  righteousness  which  the  mind  of  man 
naturally  tends  to  shape  for  itself,  and  substituted  in  its 
place  a  body  of  rules  which  could  not  command  the  best 
affection  of  the  heart.  It  stamped  failure  on  religion.  Where 
there  should  have  been  a  generous  lifting- up  of  the  soul  into 
a  self- forgetting  purity  and  love,  there  was  the  self-seeking 
devotion  to  a  mechanical  scheme  of  personal  righteousness. 
The  great  transforming  power  of  religion,  purification  from 
selfishness,  devotion  to  truth  for  its  own  sake,  was  lost  in 
the  multitude  of  cramping  details  which  falsely  assumed  the 
name  of  obedience  to  God.     Piighteousness  was  not  the  es- 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  245 

seuce  of  the  soul,  but  a  garment  which  could  shift  its  place 
and  be  put  off  and  on  at  the  pleasure  of  the  wearer. 

But  wiiile  this  is  a  fair  description  of  the  logical  ten- 
dencies of  the  Jewish  Law,  it  must  not  be  supposed  that 
its  injurious  effects  were  universal  in  the  nation.  We  must 
remember  that  much  of  the  Law  is  moral,  and  that  no 
one  could  fail  to  feel  a  spiritual  significance  beneath  its  let- 
ter. The  book  of  Deuteronomy  with  impressive  eloquence 
preaches  loving  obedience  as  the  essence  of  piety.  Along- 
side of  the  Law  were  the  prophets  and  the  Psalms,  which 
could  not  have  remained  without  effect  on  the  religious  life 
of  the  nation.  There  is  no  proof  that  the  excessive  insist- 
ence on  ceremonial  details  existed  in  the  masses  of  the 
people  ;  it  was  probably  confined  to  the  few,  —  the  bigots 
who  formed  a  separate  party  and  held  themselves  aloof 
from  the  masses.  It  is  the  Pharisees  that  Jesus  attacks, 
—  never  the  people  at  large.  Doubtless  the  mechanical 
side  of  the  nomistic  system  made  itself  felt  everywhere,  but 
it  was  not  necessarily  always  fatal.  It  made  its  appear- 
ance in  the  Christian  Church  also,  was  predominant  at 
certain  times  and  in  certain  places,  but  in  the  main  suc- 
cumbed to  the  higher  principle  of  liberty  announced  by 
Paul.  We  may  believe  that  the  germ  of  this  principle  ex- 
isted among  the  Jews  of  the  two  centuries  preceding  the 
beginning  of  our  era.  It  is  found  in  the  Psalms  and  the 
prophets  ;  it  could  not  have  been  completely  extinguished 
by  the  Law.  The  later  Jewish  history  presents  many  noble 
figures,  from  Mattathias  and  Judas  Maccaba.ais  to  Hillel, 
Gamaliel,  Akiba,  and  Jehuda  the  Holy.  The  trouble  with 
Judaism  was  not  the  absence  of  spirituality  ;  it  was  the 
inability  sufficiently  to  isolate  this  principle  and  make  it 
the  controlling  power.  Toward  this  end  the  Christianity  of 
Jesus  and  Paul  took  a  long  step ;  the  Christianity  of  later 
times,  yielding  to  the  constant  pressure  of  the  unspiritual 


246  SIN   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

side  of  human  nature,  receded  toward  the  mechanical  con- 
ception of  religion.  Jesus  found  a  not  inconsiderable  body 
of  the  people  ready  to  receive  his  teaching.  The  common 
folk  heard  him  gladly,  —  a  sign  of  spiritual  receptivity. 
The  early  Church  was  composed  of  Jews,  who,  if  not  eman- 
cipated from  the  narrow  Jewish  idea  of  law,  had  yet  been 
able  to  accept  part,  at  least,  of  the  more  spiritual  doctrine 
of  Christ.  The  germ  of  spiritual  reconstruction  lay  in  the 
people. 

5.  The  progress  of  the  Jews  in  religion,  or,  what  amounts 
practically  to  the  same  thing,  in  devotion  to  the  Law,  is 
marked  by  the  rise  of  synagogues,  parties,  and  legal  schools. 

The  beginning  of  synagogal  worship  is  involved  in  some 
obscurity.^  It  is  not  unlikely  that  during  the  Babylonian 
exile  the  captives  would  meet  together  to  listen  to  the 
exhortations  and  consolations  of  the  prophets  and  to  pray 
for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem.  Deprived  of  the  temple,  the 
centre  of  the  old  religious  service,  they  would  be  forced  to 
devise  non-ritual  modes  of  worship,  to  dispense  with  sacri- 
fices and  address  themselves  directly  to  God.  There  is  no 
record  of  such  gatherings  ;  but  a  hundred  years  later,  in  the 
prophecy  of  Malachi,  we  find  a  hint  that  the  faithful  were 
accustomed  to  meet  together  and  speak  one  with  another 
(Mai.  iii.  16),  doubtless  on  things  pertaining  to  the  worship 
of  God.  Jewish  tradition,  indeed,  places  in  the  time  of  Ezra 
and  Nehemiah  the  Great  Synagogue,  a  body  of  men  who  are 
said  to  have  pronounced  on  all  questions  affecting  the  na- 
tional religion  ;  but  there  is  positively  no  evidence  for  the 
existence  of  this  body,  —  there  is  no  trace  of  its  work  in 
later  times,  and  it  is  not  mentioned,  except  in  the  Talmud. 
It  is  an  invention  of  the  tradition,  after  the  rise  of  the  legal- 

'  See  Ilausrath,  "  History  of  the  New  Testament  Times,"  Eng.  transl. 
London,  1878,  pp.  84  ff. ;  Schiirer,  "  Geschiolite  des  Judisclien  Volkes  im  Zcit- 
alter  Jesu  Cliristi,"  ed.  2,  Leipzig,  1886,  part  ii.  pp.  356  ff. ;  Herzog,  "  Keal- 
Encyclopadie." 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  247 

scholastic  system,  for  the  purpose  of  referring  the  begin- 
nings of  legal  study  to  the  man  who  is  said  in  the  Old 
Testament  to  have  brought  the  Law  from  Babylon. ^  The 
book  of  Chronicles  knows  nothing  of  synagogues  ;  they  are 
mentioned  in  the  Old  Testament  only  in  a  psalm  (Ixxiv.  8) 
which  bears  evident  marks  of  the  Maccabean  period.  It  is 
strange  that  there  is  no  mention  of  them  in  Josephus  or 
the  Maccabean  histories.  In  the  New  Testament  we  find 
them  numerous  throughout  the  Koman  Empire,  and  we  may 
infer  that  they  had  been  in  existence  no  little  time.  In  the 
absence  of  any  definite  information,  it  seems  most  probable 
that  they  did  not  assume  their  developed  form  before  the 
beginning  of  the  second  century  B.  c,  though  the  idea  may 
have  come  into  existence  earlier.  Their  iniluence  on  the 
religious  development  of  the  Jews  must  have  been  enor- 
mous. Meeting  Sabbath  after  Sabbath  to  listen  to  the  read- 
ing of  the  Law  and  the  Prophets,  the  people  became  familiar 
with  the  sacred  writings,  and  were  trained  to  reflection  on 
religious  questions  ;  the  synagogues  would  become  the  natu- 
ral centres  of  religious  movements.  In  the  teraple-service 
the  people  took  no  active  part ;  the  ceremonial  was  con- 
ducted by  the  priests,  —  the  congregation  was  the  passive 
recipient  of  the  blessing.  But  in  tlie  weekly  meetings  of 
the  synagogue  each  individual  felt  that  he  had  a  share  ; 
individual  independence  and  moral-religious  strenuousness 
were  cultivated.  The  custom  arose  of  having  addresses  to 
the  congregation  in  explanation  or  application  of  the  scrip- 

1  Pirke  Abotli,  i.  1  •  "  Moses  receivefl  the  Law  on  Sinai  and  delivered  it 
to  Joshua,  Joshua  to  the  elders,  the  elders  to  the  prophets,  and  the  elders 
delivered  it  to  the  men  of  the  Great  Synagogue."  Beralioth,  33  a :  "  The 
men  of  the  Great  Synagogue  appointed  for  Israel  the  benedictions  and  the 
prayers,  the  formulas  of  consecration  and  distinction."  The  body  consisted 
of  one  hundred  and  twenty  men  (Meg.  17  b),  and  continued  to  about  the  time 
of  Simon  the  Just,  b.  c.  219-199  (Pirk.  Ab.  i  2  ;  Ecclus.  1.).  The  extent  of 
its  alleged  activity  has  already  been  referred  to ;  it  was  held  to  liave  edited 
various  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  to  have  settled  the  sacred  Canon. 


248  SIN   AND   EIGIITEOUSNESS. 

tural  reading,  and  liberty  of  speech  was  accorded  to  every 
one.  Thus,  while  attachment  to  the  Law  was  strengthened, 
freedom  of  discussion  was  promoted,  and  it  could  not  fail 
to  be  the  case  that  many  serious  questions  of  religion  should 
come  up  for  consideration. 

So  active  and  intellectual  a  religious  life  as  that  of  the 
Jews  of  the  third  and  second  centuries  B.  c.  naturally  pro- 
duced different  tendencies  of  thought,  and  called  into  exist- 
ence parties  which  embodied  them.  It  was  a  stirring  and 
excited  time,  a  formative  period,  next  to  that  of  the  pre- 
exilian  prophets,  the  most  striking  epoch  in  Jewish  religious 
history.  Before  the  Babylonian  exile,  the  national  growth 
had  been  comparatively  simple  and  quiet.  The  elements  of 
progress  were  furnished  almost  entirely  by  the  nation  itself ; 
the  prophets,  as  the  expounders  of  the  national  conscience, 
were  the  preachers  and  establishers  of  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciple of  ethical  monotheism  ;  the  priests,  aided  by  the  judges, 
and  perhaps  stimulated  by  the  example  of  the  Assyrians, 
were  the  formulators  of  the  civil  and  ceremonial  law,  which 
arose  out  of  the  needs  of  Jewish  society  itself.  The  exile 
was  a  time  of  seething  and  sifting.  The  Jews  accepted  ideas 
from  the  Babylonians  and  worked  them  up  in  the  spirit  of 
their  own  institutions  ;  but  these  ideas  were  Semitic  and  in 
tlie  line  of  the  existnig  Jewish  thought.  The  result  of  the 
whole  process  was  the  Pentateuch  and  the  reconstruction  of 
the  nation  as  a  church.  There  followed  a  century  of  quiet, 
during  wliich  the  new  organization  was  acquiring  firmness 
and  adapting  itself  to  the  national  life ;  then  came  the  Greek 
conquest.  The  Jews,  no  longer  a  quiet  province  of  the  Per- 
sian Empire,  found  themselves  enclosed  in  a  network  of 
Greek  kingdoms,  and  invaded  on  every  side  by  Greek  cus- 
toms and  ideas.  There  was  a  gradual  infiltration  of  foreign 
thought,  Persian  and  Greek  ;  the  doctrines  of  immortality 
and  the  resurrection  received  definite  shape ;  Greek  ethical 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  249 

and  theological  ideas  were  in  the  air,  and  mingled  with  and 
colored  the  old  Jewish  conceptions.  The  new  ideas  were  dif- 
ferently received  by  different  sections  of  the  nation.  One 
party  planted  itself  firmly  on  the  existing  national  tradi- 
tions and  discouraged  their  further  development,  while  it 
showed  itself  kindly  disposed  toward  foreign  manners  and 
in  part  toward  non-religious  foreign  thought.  Another  party, 
accepting  the  Law  as  the  national  idea,  endeavored  to  de- 
velop it  in  the  spirit  of  the  age.  A  third  party  represented 
extreme  national  particularism.  In  a  fourth  a  tendency  to 
mystical  asceticism  showed  itself.^  There  was  a  strife  of 
warring  opinions,  full  of  earnestness  and  bitterness,  for  it 
was  held  that  the  true  life  of  the  nation  was  at  stake. 
While  these  tendencies  were  slowly  formulating  themselves, 
came  the  series  of  political  events  which  crystallized  them 
into  parties.  The  Syrian  Greeks  attempted  religious  coercion 
of  the  Jews ;  it  was  necessary  to  take  sides.  The  Maccabean 
War  secured  the  independence  of  the  country.  In  the  quiet 
that  ensued  in  the  second  half  of  the  second  century  the 
great  parties  assumed  definite  shape. 

When  jVIattathias  retired  into  the  wilderness  to  make  fight 
against  the  Greeks,  he  was  joined  by  a  party  of  men  called 
Asideans  (1  Mac.  ii.  42  ;  2  Mac.  iv.  6),  distinguished  by  their 
devotion  to  the  national  law  and  customs.  They  were  the 
Hasidim  of  the  book  of  Psalms,  the  pious,  godly  men  who 
stand  everywhere  in  contrast  with  wicked  heathen  and  apos- 
tate Israelites.  They  seem  not  to  have  formed  a  religious 
party  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  term ;  they  were  rather  men 
of  exemplary  piety,  who  would  make  no  compromise  in  faith 
and  practice.     They  were  a  product  of  the  times  ;  they  had 


1  On  the  parties  see  Wellhausen,  "Die  Pharisaer  und  die  Sadducaer," 
Greifswald,  1874,  the  works  of  Hausrath  and  Schiirer,  the  dictionaries  of 
Winer  and  Herzog,  Kuenen's  "  Religion  of  Israel,"  Lightfoot's  Commentary 
on  Colossians. 


250  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

grown,  by  a  natural  process  of  discrimination,  out  of  the  con- 
flicts of  heathen  opinion.  In  the  Psalms  they  are  intensely 
national,  confident  in  trust  in  God,  bitter  against  enemies. 
The  picture  given  of  them  in  the  Psalter  corresponds  exactly 
with  the  social-political  condition  of  affairs  in  the  first  half 
of  the  second  century.  It  was  they  that  furnished  the  ma- 
terial out  of  which  the  Pharisaic  party  was  formed. 

The  Pharisees,  as  the  name  imports,^  were  the  "  sepa- 
ratists," the  party  which  was  marked  off  from  the 'rest  of 
the  nation  by  its  rigid  adhesion  to  the  moral  and  cere- 
monial requirements  of  the  law.^  But  the  essence  of  their 
party-character  lay  deeper  than  this,  —  they  were  the  rep- 
resentatives of  nationalism  in  the  broader  sense.  Tliey  ac- 
cepted the  Pentateuchal  legislation  as  the  fundamental  law 
of  the  nation  ;  but  they  saw  that  to  make  it  effective,  it 
must  be  defined  in  a  multitude  of  particulars,  —  it  must 
enclose  the  life  of  the  people  in  a  network  of  prescriptions. 
They  boldly  took  the  position  that  this  oral,  administrative 
legislation  was  no  less  authoritative  and  binding  than  the 
Mosaic  Law.  From  their  point  of  view,  they  were  logical 
and  right.  If  the  true  life  of  the  nation  depended  on  its 
fidelity  to  the  Pentateuchal  law,  it  was  necessaiy  to  make 
that  law  intelligible  and  real.  It  was  no  narrow  and  ill- 
considered  view  that  the  Pharisees  took  of  the  situation. 
What  the  nation  was  it  had  become,  they  believed,  through 
the  Law  ;  and  they  held  that  all  prosperity  depended  on 
maintaining  this  absolute  standard  of  right,  wliich  alone 
could  train  the  people  into  moral-religious  vigor.  The  de- 
fect and  the  danger  of  their  view  of  the  national  life  were 
such  as  have  been  above  described :  it  lacked  spirituality, 
it  tended  to  formalism  and  pride.  The  Pharisees  did  not 
limit   themselves    to   Old  Testament   religious   conceptions. 

1  Aramaic,  parish,  Hebrew,  punish,  "separated." 

2  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  1,  3. 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  251 

Since  the  days  of  Ezra  and  the  prophets,  the  doctrines  of 
immortality  and  the  resurrection  had  taken  shape  among 
the  Jews  of  Egypt  and  Palestine.  Tliese  doctrines  the  Phar- 
isees seem  to  have  accepted  as  part  of  the  existing  national 
faith  ;  for  we  may  infer  from  the  literature  (Wisdom  of  Sol- 
omon, Daniel,  Enoch,  Second  Maccabees)  that  they  were  gen- 
erally believed  in  the  second  century  b.  c.^  Whatever  the 
shortcomings  and  the  crimes  of  the  Pharisaic  party  (and 
they  were  great),  its  function  and  its  mission  were  broad 
and  noble.  It  undertook  to  develop  the  nation  on  the  basis 
of  the  absolute  divine  law.  It  accepted  at  home  and  abroad 
whatever  it  could  assimilate,  and  with  singleness  of  view 
and  unswerving  resoluteness  rejected  all  else.  It  was  hos- 
pitable to  foreign  ideas  so  far  as  these  could  be  made  ser- 
viceable. The  attitude  of  different  teachers  toward  alien 
thought  might  vary ;  but  this  was  the  predominant  consid- 
eration. There  were  rabbis,  like  Paul's  teacher  Gamaliel, 
who  were  friendly  to  Greek  study ;  there  were  others  who 
dreaded  it  as  a  source  of  religious  infection.  The  Phari- 
sees by  no  means  formed  an  intellectually  closed  commu- 
nity. From  the  notices  in  the  Talmud,  we  may  infer  that 
there  was  a  good  deal  of  liberty  of  thought  among  them, 
which  manifested  itself  in  various  theological  and  literary 
tendencies.  Of  their  contact  with  Greek  ideas  we  know  lit- 
tle. The  Egyptian  Jews  were  decidedly  influenced  by  Greek 
culture  ;  the  proof  is  found  in  such  books  as  the  Wisdom  of 
Solomon  and  Ecclesiastes,  and  in  the  writings  of  Philo.  But 
Pharisaism  is  more  particularly  a  Palestinian  development, 
and  in  Palestine  Greek  thought  was  less  prominent  and  less 
known  than  in  Egypt.     Still,  it  can  hardly  be  doubted  that 

1  Ou  this  point  see  below,  Ch.  VII.  The  references  to  the  future  life  iu 
Palestiniau  works  outside  of  the  apocalypses  are  very  few.  None  are  found, 
for  example,  in  the  sayings  ascribed  (in  Pirke  A  both)  to  the  heads  of  the 
legal  schools,  though  this  may  be  an  accident,  and  the  genuineness  of  these 
sayings,  moreover,  is  not  beyond  suspicion. 


252  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

the  ethical  and  religious  ideas  of  the  great  Greek  teachers 

had  found  their  way  from  Egypt,  Asia  Minor,  and  Syria  to 

Galilee  and  Jerusalem,  and  had  to  some  extent  modified  or 

directed  Palestinian  Jewish  thought.    Josephus  describes  the 

Pharisees  as  Stoics  ;  and  though  this  may  be  only  a  loose 

attempt  to  designate  them  by  a  term  familiar  to  his  Roman 

public,  still  it  suggests  a  resemblance.     The  moral  strenuous- 

ness,  the  conception  of  the  world  as  absolutely  ordered  in  all 

its  details  by  a  supermundane  power  (fate  or  providence), 

in  general  the  conception  of  the  absoluteness  of  law,  and  the 

necessity  of  ordering  the  life  thereby,  —  these  ideas,  not  un-. 

known  to  the  old  Israelites,  were  not  improbably  in  some 

degree  defined  and  shaped  by  the  better  elaborated  Greek 

thought.     Pharisaism  (and  therefore  substantially  the  whole 

later  Jewish  life)  may   be  conceived   as   an   amalgamation 

of  Greek  and  Jewish  nomistic  conceptions,  just  as  in  the 

thirteenth  century  Jewish  theology,  under  the  guidance  of 

Maimonides,  reposed  on  a  blending  of  Talmud  ic  and  Arabo- 

Grecian  philosophy.     The  two  constituents  were  fused  into  a 

unity  in  Palestine  by  the  overpowering  nationalism,  as  the 

exiles  of  the  sixth  century  B.  c.  absorbed  and  assimilated 

Babylonian  ideas.     Hints  are  not  lacking  of  the  presence 

of  Greek  influence  in  the  Jewish  schools.    Perhaps  we  may 

thus  in  part  explain  the  saying  attributed  to  Antigonus  of 

Socho,  that  men  should  serve  God  without  an  eye  to  the 

reward.     The  methodizing,  codifying  impulse  which  showed 

itself  in  the  time  of  Hillel  may  have  arisen  partly  from  the 

same  source,  as  well  as  the  extraordinary  glorification  of  the 

Law  in  the  Talmud,  according  to  which  God  himself  was 

determined  by  its  content  ^     Be  this  as  it  may,  Pharisaism 

was  practically  identical  with  Judaism. 

1  God,  when  he  would  create  the  world,  looked  into  the  Law  (Bereshith 
Ilablia,  1),  and  took  counsel  with  it  (Midrash  Tanchuma,  1 )  ;  to  its  study  he 
devotes  three  hours  every  day  (Aboda  Sara,  3  b),  and  to  its  prescriptions  he 
conforms  himself  (Wayikra  Kabba,  19,  35).   Weber,  "  System,"  §  4.   This  ex- 


SIX   x^ND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  253 

The  rival  sect  of  the  Sadducees  never  had  any  strong  hold 
on  the  people.  According  to  Josephus  (Ant.  xiii.  10,  6),  their 
adherents  were  found  only  among  tlie  rich,  while  the  Phar- 
isees had  the  multitude  on  their  side  ;  and  so,  he  adds,  the 
former,  when  they  l^ecame  magistrates,  were  forced  to  adopt 
Pharisaic  notions  because  the  people  would  listen  to  noth- 
ing else  (Ant  xviii.  1,  4).  The  unpopularity  of  the  Saddu- 
cees was  no  doubt  due  in  part  to  the  character  of  their 
religious  ideas.  They  rejected  the  authority  of  the  traditional 
interpretations  of  the  Law,  and  held  themselves  strictly  to 
the  text  of  the  Pentateuch.^  This  is  possibly  the  explana- 
tion of  their  attitude  toward  the  doctrines  of  immortality 
and  the  resurrection,  neither  of  which  they  accepted  (Ant. 
xviii.  1,  4  ;  Matt.  xxii.  23 ;  Acts  xxiii.  8) ;  that  is,  perhaps 
they  held  strictly  to  the  negative  position  of  the  Pentateuch.^ 
But  this  was  out  of  harmony  with  the  existing  views  and  feel- 
ing of  the  people  ;  popular  feeling  had  advanced  beyond  the 
point  of  view  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  the  cold  scepticism 
of  the  Sadducees  was  unacceptable.  It  seems  probable  also 
that  the  social  position  and  culture  of  the  party  kept  them 
aloof  from  the  people.  Josephus  intimates  that  it  was  com- 
posed of  aristocrats,  and  the  history  shows  that  it  furnished 
many  magistrates  and  high-priests.     This  fact  has  suggested 

uberantly  fanciful  representation  embodies  the  feeling  that  the  universe  is 
determined  by  an  eternal  law,  of  which  God  is  the  personal  and  the  Tora 
the  written  expression. 

1  Nevertheless,  it  must  be  supposed  that  they  recognized  judicial  interpre- 
tations of  tiie  Pentateuchal  code,  which  M'ere  necessary  in  order  to  apply  it  to 
particular  cases  (.Jo.s,  Ant.  xx,  9,  1). 

2  There  is  some  difficulty  in  the  statements  of  Josephus  that  the  Saddu- 
cees believed  that  souls  die  with  bodies,  and  of  Acts  that  they  accepted  neither 
angel  nor  s\nrit.  This  goes  beyond  the  Pentateuch  and  the  Old  Testament 
generally.  Perhaps  it  is  only  intended  to  say  that  they  denied  the  independent 
existence  of  souls  and  spirits,  holding  the  dead  to  be  confined  as  "  shades  " 
in  Sheol.  and  that  they  rejected  the  later  post-biblical  elaboration  of  the  doc- 
trine of  angels.  Otherwise  we  must  ascribe  to  them  a  doctrine  of  annihilation 
which  is  allied  to  the  Stoic  view.  In  the  absence  of  preciser  information  these 
affirmations  must  be  received  with  caution. 


254  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

the  view  that  the  germ  of  the  Sadducean  party  was  formed 
by  the  old  priestly  families,  who  for  a  long  time  enjoyed 
political  and  social  supremacy  and  inherited  the  religious 
traditions  of  the  temple-ceremonial.  The  priests  would  nat- 
urally be  a  conservative  body,  holding  to  the  letter  of  the 
law  and  careless  of  modern  innovations  of  thouglit^  Their 
position  did  not  bring  them  into  close  contact  with  the  })eo- 
ple,  and  they  would  have  small  knowledge  of  popular  needs 
and  small  sympathy  with  popular  ideas.  On  the  other  hand, 
their  social  traditions  allied  them  with  the  rich  and  aristo- 
cratic ;  they  would  easily  adopt  foreign  habits  of  luxury  and 
social  ideas,  while  they  rejected  those  new  conceptions  of  the 
Law  and  those  doctrinal  interpretations  which  were  neces- 
sary in  order  to  bring  it  into  living  harmony  with  the  new 
generation.  Thus  they  stood  outside  the  line  of  national 
progress,  and  had  small  effect  on  the  national  thought.  They 
seem  to  represent  a  petrified  conservatism  which  is  not  en- 
titled to  the  name  of  nationalism.  They  are  of  no  recog- 
nizable interest  in  the  history  of  Christian  thouglit.  Their 
activity  in  Palestine  was  almost  exclusively  political  up  to 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  by  the  Piomans,  when  they  van- 
ished from  the  scene  to  appear  as  a  party  no  more.  Traces 
of  similar  negative  opinions  may  be  found  in  later  times,  but 
not  of  such  an  organization. 

The  third  Jewish  party,  the  Essenes,  presents  character- 
istics in  some  respects  more  remarkable  than  those  of  the 
other  two.  When  it  first  took  distinct  shape  we  do  not 
know ;  but  as  the  Essene  Manahem  was  a  friend  of  Herod 
the  Great  (Ant.  xv.  10,  5),  and  as  the  party  seems  at  that 
time  to  have  been  well  established,  it  may  be  inferred  tlint 
it  arose  not  later  than  in  the  early  part  of  the  first  century 

1  The  name  "Sadducccs"  is  most  prohahly  identical  with  "Zadokites" 
(Ezek.  xliv.  15),  the  priestly  family  which  came  into  control  of  the  teiiii)le 
just  before  the  beginning  of  the  Babylonian  exile. 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  255 

B.  c.  Its  members  were  found  in  small  numbers  in  various 
parts  of  Palestine,  including  the  cities  (Jos.  War,  ii.  8,  4) ;  a 
large  community  was  settled  on  the  northwest  coast  of  the 
Dead  Sea.^  'ibey  represented  in  the  first  place  an  extreme 
legalism  so  far  as  ceremonial  parity  of  body  was  concerned, 
and  in  this  point  may  be  regarded  as  an  exaggerated  form 
of  Pharisaism.  Singularly  enough,  however,  their  attitude 
toward  the  temple-sacrifices  was  hostile  ;  they  refused  to 
take  part  in  them.  The  ground  of  their  repugnance  to  the 
national  system  of  offerings  seems  to  have  been  not  that 
of  the  prophets  and  psalmists,  —  it  was  neither  ethical  nor 
spiritual.  It  perhaps  connected  itself  with  their  second  pecu- 
liarity, a  pronounced  asceticism,  which  reached  the  propor- 
tions of  gnostic  dualism.  They  abstained  from  wine,  animal 
food,  and  oil,  and  most  of  them  from  marriage.  They  obvi- 
ously held  that  tlie  body,  as  the  seat  of  evil,  was  to  be 
repressed  and  chastised.  Whence  this  decidedly  non-Jewish 
view  came,  it  is  hard  to  say ;  it  has  been  ascribed  to  Persian 
and  other  Oriental  influence,  but  the  data  for  determining 
its  origin  are  lacking.  Un-Jewish  it  certainly  was,  since  the 
nation  otherwise  never  showed  any  such  tendency.  The  Old 
Testament  heartily  accepts  and  approves  the  ordinary  social 
life  of  man  ;  yet  a  point  of  departure  for  such  a  system  may 
be  found  in  Old  Testament  ideas  (especially  in  the  concep- 
tion of  the  weakness  of  the  flesh,  in  the  Nazarite  vow,  and 
the  Eechabite  life),  and  traces  of  asceticism  appear  in  the 
books  of  Daniel  (i.  8, 12)  and  Tobit  (xii.  8).  It  is  conceiv- 
able that  the  Essenian  asceticism  may  have  arisen  out  of 

1  Pliny,  Hist.  Nat.  v,  1.5.  For  an  account  of  similar  communities  in  Egypt 
known  as  Therapeutte,  see  Philo,  "  On  the  Contemplative  Life."  According  to 
him,  the  P^ssenes  represented  the  practical,  and  the  Therapeutce  (the  Healers 
of  Souls)  the  theoretical  side  of  the  deeper,  philosophic  religious  life.  Of  tliis 
Egyptian  sect,  which  may  liave  sprung  out  of  the  Jewisli-Alexandrine  tlie- 
osophy,  we  are  unable  to  trace  with  distinctness  any  influence  on  the  suc- 
ceeding Jewish  or  Christian  development  of  the  first  century  of  our  era. 


256  !SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

this  general  idea.  The  turmoils  of  the  time  may  liave  led 
certain  persons  (there  were  perhaps  five  or  six  thousand  in 
all)  to  withdraw  from  the  world  and  seek  peace  by  sup- 
pressing the  body  in  order  to  cultivate  the  soul ;  and  it  was 
possibly  this  conviction,  that  happiness  was  gained  through 
inward  purity,  that  produced  the  negative  attitude  toward 
sacrifices.^  Other  peculiarities  of  the  party  lead  us  to  sus- 
pect Oriental  influence :  they  practised  occult  arts,  were  ac- 
quainted with  medicinal  roots  and  stones,  had  secret  books 
and  mysteries,  and  made  predictions  (Jos.  Ant.  xv.  10,  5, 
where  Manahem  foretells  the  greatness  of  Herod) ;  they 
practised  a  sort  of  sun-worship,  and  had  a  special  doctrine 
of  angels.  So  far  as  their  life  was  concerned,  it  was  of  the 
most  exemplary  sort  ;  they  were  everywhere  famous  for 
piety  and  virtue. 

Though  the  Essenes  did  not  affect  the  general  national 
Jewish  development,  standing  as  they  did  outside  of  its 
lines  of  advance,  yet  it  is  not  Hkely  that  they  remained  en- 
tirely without  influence  on  current  thought.  In  fact,  there 
are  traces  in  the  New  Testament  of  their  two  distinctive 
peculiarities,  their  communistic  morality  and  their  gnostic 
conception  of  life  and  of  the  world.  While  the  supposition 
that  Jesus  was  an  Essene  must  be  [)ronounced  to  be  base- 
less and  even  bizarre,  it  is  not  impossible  that  he  may  have 
been  attracted  by  that  self-abnegation  which  the  party  so 
strikingly  illustrated.  The  Essenian  practices  of  non-resist- 
ance and  abandonment  of  claim  to  private  property  were 
doubtless  well  known  in  Palestine  in  the  first  half  of  the 
first  century,  and  may  have  been  sympathized  with  by  many 
persons.  Such  ideas,  which  were  in  the  air,  Jesus  may  have 
in  part  adopted  in  the  form  in  which  we  find  them  expressed 
in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount ;  but  he  combined  them  with 

1  Perhaps  also  the  feeling  ajjainst  the  shedding  of  blood,  for  wliich  reason 
probably  in  part  tliey  abstained  from  animal  food. 


SIN   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  257 

pure  spiritual  views  and  vigorous  positive  morality  in  such 
a  way  as  practically  to  take  them  out  of  the  circle  of  Esse- 
nian  doctrine.  The  only  other  trace  of  this  party  in  the  New 
Testament  is  found  in  the  gnosticism  which  is  combated  in 
the  Epistle  to  the  Colossians.  The  similarity  between  the 
Jewish-Christian  doctrine  there  opposed  and  the  Essenian 
views  is  striking  :  ^  there  is  the  same  asceticism  and  dual- 
ism and  the  same  prominence  given  to  angels.  But  it  is 
not  certain  that  the  Colossian  gnosticism  was  derived  from 
the  Essenes ;  it  may  liave  come  from  similar,  but  independent, 
movements  of  thought  in  Asia  Minor.  The  historical  origin 
of  these  early  forms  of  gnosticism  is  not  clear  ;  but  it  is  of 
great  interest  to  note  that  similar  developments  took  place 
in  Judaism  and  in  Christianity.  And  when  we  consider  the 
wide  diffusion  of  gnostic  opinions  in  the  early  part  of  the 
second  century  of  our  era,  we  are  forced  to  recognize  a  deep- 
lying  tendency  in  the  Jewish  world  (perhaps  non-Jewish 
in  origin,  and  numbering  comparatively  few  adherents)  to 
adopt  a  mystical-philosophic  view  of  the  universe,  discard- 
ing both  Jewish  and  Christian  nomistic,  Messianic,  and  sac- 
ficial  ideas,  undertaking  on  the  one  hand  to  bridge  over  the 
chasm  between  God  and  the  world  by  a  series  of  inter- 
mediate intelligences,  and  on  the  other  hand  to  lift  mau 
into  union  with  God  by  a  process  of  bodily  anJ  sjrlrit'ial 
self-culture.  The  points  of  contact  between  this  scheme  and 
the  ]\Iazdean  and  Buddhistic  conceptions  of  life  cannot  be 
denied ;  but  in  the  absence  of  all  proof,  it  would  be  rash  to 
affirm  an  historical  connection  between  the  Jewish  and  the 
Oriental  systems.  We  can  only  say  that  gnostic  thought  has 
its  basis  in  human  nature,  and  we  need  not  be  surprised  at 
its  appearance  in  Jewish  circles.  Christian  gnosticism  may 
have  sprung  in  part  from  the  Jewish  thought,  but  certainly 
owed  its  fullest  development  to  other  than  Jewish  influences. 

1  See  J.  B.  Lightfoot's  note  in  his  Commentary  on  Colossians. 


258  ^I>^   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

Joseplius  (Ant.  xviii.  1,  6)  mentions  a  fourth  Jewish  party, 
the  Zealots,  of  which  Judas,  the  Galilean,  was  the  founder, 
but  it  was  rather  political  than  religious  in  character.  It 
represented  a  fanatical  nationalism,  a  rejection  of  all  earthly 
rulers,  an  inviolable  attachment  to  liberty,  and  devotion  to 
the  God  of  Israel  as  the  only  Lord.  The  part  played  by 
these  men  in  the  revolt  against  the  Romans  and  the  siege 
of  Jerusalem  belongs  to  the  civil  history. 

The  Sanhedrin  and  the  great  legal  schools,  though  they 
were  influential  in  the  elaboration  of  the  ethical,  civil,  and 
religious  law,  had  little  to  do  with  the  development  of  re- 
ligious doctrine.     They  were  the  official  representatives  and 
expounders  of  the   national   nomism,  which  they  received 
from   their   fathers   and   transmitted   to    their  descendants. 
The  earliest  mention  of  the  Sanhedrin  occurs  in  Josephus' 
account  of  the  reign  of  John  Hyrcanus  II.  (b.  c.  47),  where 
Herod  is  summoned  before  this  tribunal  to  account  for  cer- 
tain murders  committed  by  him  (Ant.  xiv.  9,  3-5).     It  is 
there  spoken  of  as  an  established  institution,  and  had  doubt- 
less been  in  existence  for  a  considerable  period,  though  the 
beginnings  of  its  history  are  unknown     There  is  no  proof 
that  it  was   connected  with  Ezra;  the  form  of  the  name^ 
points  to  the  Greek  period  as  the  time  of  its  origination. 
It  was  doul)tless  a  gradual  development  out  of  older  judi- 
cial institutions.     Its  membership  consisted  of  seventy-one 
priests  and  scribes ;  it  had  two  secretaries,  and  was  presided 
over  by  the  high-priest.     It  was  the  supreme  judicial  and 
legislative  body,  having  nominally  final  jurisdiction  in  civil 
and  ecclesiastical  affairs ;  but  its  power  was  practically  lim- 
ited by  the  authority  of  the  Jewish  kings  and  the  Eoman 
procurators. 

The  best  activity  of  the  nation  during  the  Greek  period 
appears  in  the  legal  schools.     The  class  of  students  called 
1  It  is  the  Hebrew  or  Aramaic  form  of  the  Greek  ffvif^Spwv. 


SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  259 

Soferim,  or  Scribes,  had  arisen  in  response  to  the  demand  for 
the  interpretation  and  application  of  the  Law.  The  name  is 
given  to  Ezra  (Ezra  vii.  6);  and  there  was  doubtless,  from 
his  day  on,  a  succession  of  men  who  devoted  themselves  to 
the  elaboration  of  legal  science.  The  study  seems,  however, 
not  to  have  been  definitely  organized  until  the  second  cen- 
tury B.  c.  At  that  time  there  began  a  line  of  teachers,  each 
of  whom  gathered  around  him  a  body  of  disciples  and  ex- 
pressed his  opinions  in  the  form  of  apothegms.  Most  of  the 
sayings  of  these  masters  that  have  been  preserved  ^  are  eth- 
ical and  legal,  and  have  little  direct  bearing  on  the  history 
of  religious  thought.  Indirectly,  no  doubt,  their  influence 
was  great.  The  schools  cultivated  the  habit  of  independent 
thought,  and  introduced  into  religion  an  ethical  element 
which  could  not  fail  to  counteract  the  materializing  ten- 
dency of  nomism.  So  far  as  there  was  a  scientific  devel- 
opment of  thought  among  the  Jews  of  this  period,  we  find 
it  in  the  succession  of  heads  of  schools. 

The  saying  attributed  to  Simon  the  Just  expresses  the 
fundamental  idea  of  Judaism  :  "  On  three  things  the  world 
rests,  —  on  the  Law,  on  divine  service,  and  on  good  works." 
This  is  the  starting-point  of  Jewish  development  proper,  — 
absolute  obedience  to  the  external  divine  standard,  and  along 
with  this  kindly  deeds  toward  mankind.  It  recognizes  both 
the  outward  law  of  the  code  and  the  inward  law  of  the  con- 
science. Of  the  same  import  is  the  injunction  ascribed  to 
the  early  teachers  to  "  make  a  hedge  about  the  Law,"  —  that 
is,  to  enact  and  enforce  minute  ceremonial  and  other  pre- 
scriptions so  as  to  define  the  Law  with  precision,  and  secure 
its  effectiveness.^ 

^  In  the  tract  Pirke  Aboth,  and  in  other  Talmudic  treatises. 

'^  There  was  probahlj  also  in  some  circles  a  desire  to  guard  the  purity  of 
the  nation  by  surrounding  initiation  with  difficulties  that  should  deter  all  but 
men  of  serious  intention.  The  horror  of  heathenism  was  great,  the  fear  of 
its  seductive  influences  ever  present,  and  isolation  was  a  familiar  idea.    The 


260  SIN   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

The  first  of  the  great  teachers  whose  name  has  come  down 
to  us,  Antigonus  of  Socho  (second  century  B.  c),  is  cred- 
ited with  the  remarkable  declaration  that  men  should  not 
serve  God  for  reward,  —  that  virtue  is  to  spring  from  love 
of  right,  and  to  be  accepted  as  its  own  sufficient  reward,  — 
an  utterance  which  has  no  parallel  in  Old  Testament  or 
New  Testament.  According  to  the  tradition,  liis  teaclung 
was  understood  by  some  of  his  scholars  as  a  denial  of  im- 
mortality, whence  sprung  the  party  of  the  Sadchicees.^  That 
this  is  not  a  correct  account  of  tlie  origin  of  that  party,  we 
have  already  seen.  But  the  Sadducees  were  credited  with 
a  leaning  to  foreigners,  and  it  is  possible  that  we  have  here 
a  vague  reminiscence  of  fear  of  the  Greek  influence  in  the 
school  of  Antigonus.  The  probability  is  that  Stoic  thought 
was  known  in  Palestine  at  that  time.^  It  is  noteworthy 
that  Antigonus  seems  to  have  maintained  his  position  in 
spite  of  a  dictum  which  was  contrary  to  tlie  Jewish  ortho- 
opposite  policy  of  liberality  also  found  favor,  if  we  may  rely  on  the  anecdote 
whicli  represents  Shamniai  as  repelling  would-be  proselytes  by  the  severity  of 
his  demands,  while  Hillel  summed  up  tlie  legal  requirements  for  candidates 
in  the  golden  rule  Siiab  31  a,  cited  by  Jost,  "  Geschichte  des  Judentliums," 
I  265.  Jost  remarks  (in  note)  that  this  conflict  between  legalism  and  moral- 
ity was  afterwards  transformed  into  that  between  legalism  (Peter)  and  faith 
(Paul). 

1  The  name  is  said  in  one  tradition  to  be  derived  from  that  of  one  of  tiiese 
scholars,  Zadok,  but  this  is  probably  an  invented  etymology ;  already  in  the 
Talmud  these  early  times  of  legal  study  have  a  legendary  coloring. 

2  Its  presence  in  Palestine  is  not  expressly  mentioned,  but  may  lie  inferred 
from  the  general  prevalence  of  Greek  thought.  Tlie  intimate  relations  be- 
tween Palestine  and  Egypt,  where  it  is  certain  that  Greek  ideas  were  hos- 
pitably received  by  Jews,  the  Greek  translation  of  the  law  and  the  prophets, 
which  gradually  made  its  way  into  Syria ;  the  adoption  of  Greek  customs 
by  a  part  of  the  Jewish  people  in  the  time  of  Antiochus  Epiphanes,  —  these 
facts  point  to  the  presence  of  Hellenic  ideas  among  the  Palestinian  Jews  as 
early  as  the  beginning  of  the  second  century  n.  c.  That  Antigonus  of  Socho 
bears  a  Greek  name  may  be  not  without  significance.  Greek  culture  would 
naturally  bring  witli  it  Greek  philosophy, —  Stoic,  Platonic,  and  other  sys- 
tems prevalent  at  the  time.  Whether  Greek  books  were  then  read  by  Pales- 
tinian Jews,  we  have  no  means  of  determining ;  the  documents,  absorbed  in 
political  and  Messianic  interests,  are  unfortunately  silent  on  this  point. 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  261 

doxy  of  the  period ;  and  while  we  cannot  regard  him  as  the 
founder  of  the  Sadducean  party,  we  may  suppose  that  he 
represents  a  direction  of  opinion  which  found  sympathy  and 
expression  in  Sadduceism.  The  Old  Testament  everywhere 
connects  man's  conduct  in  this  life  with  divine  reward  and 
punishment ;  but,  except  in  the  book  of  Daniel,  it  has  noth- 
ing to  say  of  reward  and  punishment  in  the  future  life.  A 
thinker,  like  Antigonus,  especially  under  the  influence  of 
Stoicism,  might  find  the  gist  of  the  Old  Testament  teaching 
in  the  doctrine  that  reverence  toward  God  was  the  central 
fact  of  religious  life,  and  that  obedience  to  him  brought  not 
outward  prosperity,  but  that  inward  satisfaction  which  con- 
stituted the  highest  happiness.  How  far  such  an  opinion 
was  held  by  the  later  Sadducees,  we  have  no  means  of  deter- 
mining ;  our  accounts  of  them  come  from  their  enemies.  The 
Talmudic  Pharisees  could  see  no  good  in  men  who  held  aloof 
from  what  had  come  to  be  regarded  as  the  vital  principle 
of  the  nation,  devotion  to  the  ceremonial  law.  The  Talmud 
was  edited,  moreover,  long  after  the  Sadducees  as  a  party 
had  ceased  to  exist.  Time  liad  stamped  failure  on  them  ;  it 
was  not  likely  that  they  would  receive  justice  at  the  hands 
of  their  successful  opponents.  On  general  grounds,  consid- 
ering the  prominent  part  played  by  the  Sadducees  in  the 
civil  and  ecclesiastical  government,  it  is  likely  that  they 
numbered  in  their  ranks  not  a  few  men  of  exemplary,  moral- 
religious  character,  maintaining  the  Old  Testament  standard 
of  faith  and  conduct,  but  standing  necessarily  in  a  position 
of  antagonism  toward  popular  thought.  They  were  probably 
neither  better  nor  worse  than  their  adversaries.  If  the  his- 
tory of  the  times  had  been  written  by  them,  we  should  no 
doubt  find  in  their  policy  and  conduct  the  usual  mixture 
of  good  and  bad  ;  it  was  their  misfortune  that  they  were  out 
of  accord  with  the  Jewish  spirit  of  the  age,  and  vanished, 
from  the  scene  almost  without  leaving  a  trace  of  influence" 


262  SIN   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

on  national  opinions.  So  far  as  the  practical  ethics  of  the 
time  is  concerned,  it  was  not  determined  by  the  dicta  of 
teachers  and  schools,  but  sprang  out  of  the  social  conditions, 
to  which  the  Sadducees,  no  less  than  the  Pharisees,  were 
subject. 

The  rivalry  between  Pharisees  and  Sadducees  is  in  one 
aspect  a  struggle  between  progressive  nomism  and  conserv- 
ative nationalism.  The  question  was  virtually  decided  in 
favor  of  the  party  of  nomistic  advance,  in  the  second  cen- 
tury B.  c.  In  another  aspect  this  party  strife  connected 
itself  with  the  conflict  between  Jewish  and  foreign  ideas. 
The  historical  content  of  the  second  century  has  been  de- 
scribed as  the  victory  of  nomism  over  Hellenism.  This, 
however,  is  a  partial  statement  of  the  case,  true  from  one 
point  of  view,  untrue  from  another.  The  sharp  attack  of 
the  Syrian  Greeks  on  the  organized  Jewish  faith  was  thor- 
oughly crushed  by  the  Maccabean  uprising  ;  the  attempt 
was  not  repeated  by  Greeks  or  Komans.  Yahwe,  the  Lord, 
was  not  displaced  by  Jupiter  Capitolinus.  The  Jewish  sa- 
cred books  were  not  destroyed.  The  hold  of  the  Jewish 
ritual  on  the  national  mind  was  not  weakened.  Judaism 
as  a  religious  system  remained  firm,  and  Hellenistic  hea- 
thenism suffered  a  decisive  defeat.  But  this  is  only  the 
outward  aspect  of  the  question.  Judaism,  while  it  had  an 
inward  life  vigorous  enough  to  repel  all  such  attacks,  had 
also  a  depth  and  breadth  of  susceptibility  which  recognized 
the  value  of  certain  foreign  truths.  Notably  the  great  be- 
lief in  immortality  came  to  the  Jews  through  Greek  inter- 
mediation. In  the  Egyptian -Jewish  literature  there  is  many 
a  trace  of  Greek  inlhience  in  philosophical-religious  views 
of  the  world  and  of  life,  —  the  conceptions,  for  example, 
of  the  divine  cosmos,  the  divine  mediating  logos,  the  divine 
power  of  human  wisdom  and  virtue.  Palestinian  nomism 
was  less  affected  by  such  ideas  ;  but  in  Palestine  also  we 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  263 

find  the  doctrine  of  immortality,  and  in  the  legal  schools 
the  idea  of  moral  order  and  individual  strict  rectitude  and 
justice.  All  these  conceptions  passed  over  to  Christianity. 
From  this  point  of  view  Hellenism  did  not  suffer  a  defeat, 
but  succeeded  in  impressing  itself  on  Judaism.  The  con- 
tact between  these  two  great  systems  of  thought  is  to  be 
looked  on  rather  as  an  intellectual-religious  conference,  in 
which  the  more  firmly  organized  religion,  while  maintaining 
its  general  character,  accepted  suggestions  from  its  neigh- 
bor. Judaism,  by  virtue  of  all  the  elements  of  its  past,  had 
a  vigor  of  constitution  and  a  common-sense  practicalness 
which  assured  it  existence  and  success  in  the  strife  of  opin- 
ions. The  strength  of  Hellenism  lay,  not  in  its  religious 
organization,  but  in  its  general  conceptions  of  life.  Its  pan- 
theon and  its  priesthood  were  doomed  to  extinction  :  but 
its  philosophy  was  to  survive  as  a  permanent  element  of 
civilization.  The  Jews,  however,  and  especially  those  of  Pal- 
estine, did  not  express  Greek  philosophical  ideas  in  techni- 
cal terms  ;  the  philosophical  influence  shows  itself  in  the 
general  coloring  of  the  thought.  Nor  is  more  than  a  gen- 
eral coloring  to  be  expected.  Tlie  Jewish  ethics  and  religion 
of  the  second  century  B.  c.  sprang  out  of  old  Israelitish  soil, 
and  were  developed  largely  by  Israelitish  experiences.  But 
when  we  compare  the  utterances  of  the  great  lawyers  with 
the  purely  national  tone  of  the  apocalyptic  and  historical 
books,  we  are  naturally  led  to  attribute  the  broad  humanita- 
rian and  cosmopolitan  elements  of  the  former  to  that  breath 
of  foreign  influence  which  we  have  reason  to  believe  was 
then  found  in  Palestine.^  By  way  of  illustration  we  may 
cite  some  of  the  sayings  whicli  are  attributed  to  the  centres 
of  legal-ethical  teaching. 

1  For  the  extent  of  Hellenic  culture  during  this  period  in  Palestine,  in 
Judean  and  uounJudean  districts,  see  Schiirer,  "  Geschichte  des  Jiidischen 
Volkes,"  II.  pp.  9-50. 


264  SIN  AND  EIGHTEOUSNESS. 

Simon  the  Just  declared  that  the  world  rested  on  the 
Tora,  on  the  divine  service,  and  on  deeds  of  kindness  or 
mercy  (with  possible  allusion  to  Hos.  vi.  G,  cf.  Matt.  xii.  7), 
that  is,  he  puts  duty  to  one's  fellow-men  on  tlie  same  level 
with  the  obligation  to  obey  the  ritual  law.  The  dictum  of 
Antigonus  is  the  exaltation  of  the  pure  spirit  of  devotion  to 
duty :  "  Be  as  servants  who  serve  the  master  without  view 
to  reward."  The  sayings  of  the  succeeding  teachers  down 
to  Hillel  deal  exclusively  with  ethical  and  legal  principles. 
We  cannot  conclude  from  this  that  they  neglected  the  cere- 
monial law,  but  it  may  fairly  be  inferred  that  they  laid  very 
great  stress  on  the  ideas  of  justice  and  probity.  The  most 
important  of  the  heads  of  the  legal  schools  was  the  Baby- 
lonian Hillel,  who  belongs  to  the  reign  of  Herod  the  Great, 
the  last  third  of  the  century  before  the  beginning  of  our  era, 
A  richly  endowed  and  many-sided  man,  he  left  his  impress 
on  the  national  development  in  more  than  one  direction.  As 
a  lawyer,  he  was  famous  not  only  for  his  great  learning,  but 
also  for  his  clearness  and  analytic  power.  He  arranged  the 
enormous  mass  of  the  traditional  interpretations  of  the  Law 
into  something  like  a  regular  code,  and  thus  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  the  Mishna,  and  prepared  the  way  for  the  precise 
scientific  legal  study  which  was  to  occupy  the  Jewish  mind 
for  the  next  thousand  years.  In  this  way  he  helped  to  bind 
the  nation  more  firmly  to  the  nomistic  idea,  and  to  develop 
more  fully  all  the  good  and  bad  that  lay  in  the  nomistic 
scheme  of  life.  On  the  other  hand,  his  ethical  conceptions 
were  characterized  by  remarkable  freedom,  breadth,  and  geni- 
alness.  He  and  his  colleague,  Shammai,  stood  at  opposite 
poles  in  the  construction  of  the  Law;  the  latter  was  stern 
and  uncompromising,  the  former  was  mild  and  liberal.  It 
was  to  a  Gentile  candidate  for  proselytism  that  he  is  said 
to  have  declared  that  the  whole  Law  was  comprised  in  one 
word:  "What  thou  wouldst  not  have  another  do  to  thee, 


SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  265 

do  not  thou  to  another."  A  similar  idea  is  contained  in  his 
saying :  "  Be  of  the  disciples  of  Aaron,  loving  and  follow- 
ing after  peace,  loving  mankind  and  leading  them  to  the 
Law,"  where  it  seems  that  he  regards  the  Law  as  the  em- 
bodiment of  order  informed  by  kindness  and  love.  Eespect- 
ing  self-seeking  he  said :  "  Who  seeks  fame  loses  fame  ; 
who  does  not  increase  [in  learning]  decreases;  who  does  not 
teach  is  worthy  of  death  ;  who  uses  the  crown  [of  learn- 
ing] for  his  own  ends  perishes."  In  enigmatical  fashion 
he  expresses  the  idea  of  unselfish  self-culture :  "If  I  am 
not  for  myself,  who  is  for  me  ?  and  if  I  am  for  myself,  what 
am  I  ?  and  if  not  now,  when  ? "  Here  is  both  ethical  strin- 
gency and  philosophical  subtlety. 

In  his  time  the  Jewish  legal  system  acquired  definite  con- 
sistency, and  after  him  no  important  change  seems  to  have 
occurred.  The  great  lawyers  worked  out  details,  but  the 
national  conception  of  righteousness  remained  essentially  un- 
modified. Eighteousness  was  obedience  to  the  Law.  We 
have  already  noted  the  vice  of  this  system,  —  mechanical 
and  external  self-confidence.  But  we  are  not  to  suppose 
that  formality  obtained  the  entire  control  of  the  religious 
life  of  the  period,  that  the  national  conception  of  life  was 
wholly  vicious.  We  know  that  the  national  instinct  de- 
manded inwardness  and  spirituality  of  life.  With  so  great 
a  mass  of  ethical  thought  as  the  Jewish  nation  then  pos- 
sessed, it  was  impossible  that  there  should  not  be  some  trace 
of  higher  and  purer  devotion  to  right  for  its  own  sake.  In 
the  person  and  teaching  of  Hillel  we  have  the  example  of 
such  a  nobler  conception  of  religion,  and  there  must  have 
been  many  who  shared  his  views.^  But  it  is  true  at  the 
same  time  that  this  better  side  of  the  national  religious  life 
was  not  the  controlling  one ;  it  was  constantly  hi  danger  of 

1  Ou  Ilillel  see  Jost,  "  Geschichte,"  I.  257  £f.,  art.  in  Herzog,  and  Delitzsch's 
monograph. 


266  SIX  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

being  overborne  by  the  ceremonialism  which  tended  to  de- 
press or  to  crush  the  spiritual  independence  and  freedom 
of  the  souL  The  Law  offered  a  great  religious  career  to  the 
Jewish  people,  but  only  on  the  condition  that  along  with 
this  external  guide  there  should  be  also  the  recognition  of 
the  conscience  as  a  divinely  enlightened  source  of  truth,  — ■ 
that  the  impulse  to  right-living  should  spring  not  merely 
from  a  desire  to  keep  the  mass  of  precepts,  but  also  from 
an  inward  perception  and  love  of  divine  truth.  Hillel  had 
perceived  the  necessity  of  a  freer  element  in  the  religious 
life,  but  he  had  not  been  able  to  lift  it  into  a  position  of 
control.  There  was  needed  a  more  piercing  insight  and  a 
more  lofty  spirituality  to  convert  Jewish  nomism  into  a  true 
spiritual  life. 

6.  It  cannot  be  considered  an  accident  that  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth and  Hillel  stand  historically  so  near  together.  We  see 
in  the  latter  the  germ  of  the  religious  feeling  to  which  the 
former  gave  full  shape.  The  peculiarity  of  the  position  of 
Jesus  as  religious  teacher  was  not  that  he  rejected  the  na- 
tional nomistic  scheme,  but  that  he  sought  to  infuse  into 
it  the  vitalizing  principle  of  independent  communion  with 
God. 

It  appears  from  the  Synoptic  narratives  that  Jesus  recog- 
nized and  accepted  the  national  system  of  sacrifices  and  the 
national  law.  Lepers  whom  he  healed  he  sent  to  make  the 
offering  prescribed  by  law  (Matt.  viii.  4)  ;  he  kept  the  regu- 
lar feasts  (Matt.  xxvi.  17);  and  according  to  the  First  Gos- 
pel (Matt,  xxiii.  2,  3),  he  declared  that  the  scribes  and  the 
I*harisees  were  authorized  expounders  of  the  Mosaic  law, 
and  that  their  prescriptions  were  to  be  obeyed.  We  must 
therefore  conclude  that  he  accepted  in  full  the  Mosaic  law, 
with  tlie  rest  of  the  Old  Testament,  as  the  divinely  given 
guide  of  life.  We  need  not  lay  stress  on  the  declaration  of 
Matt.  V.  19:  "Whosoever,  therefore,  shall  break  one  of  these 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  267 

least  commandments  and  shall  teach  men  so,  shall  be  called 
least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  but  whosoever  shall  do 
and  teach  them,  he  shall  be  called  great  in  the  kingdom 
of  heaven."  From  the  generally  admitted  Judaizing  char- 
acter of  this  Gospel,  it  is  not  impossible  that  these  words 
were  added  by  an  editor  in  the  time  of  conflict  between  the 
Pauline  and  Judaizing  parties  of  the  Church,  yet  there  is 
nothing  in  the  other  Synoptics  in  contradiction  of  this  decla- 
ration ;  it  is  not  the  Law,  but  its  abuse,  that  he  condemns. 
It  is  quite  in  accordance  with  the  Synoptic  portraiture  of 
him  that  he  should  say  :  "  Think  not  that  I  came  to  de- 
stroy the  Law  or  the  prophets ;  I  came  not  to  destroy,  but 
to  fulfil"  (v.  17).  And  if  he  looked  on  the  Old  Testament 
as  the  final  divine  revelation  of  truth,  he  might  well  add : 
"  Till  heaven  and  earth  pass  away,  one  jot  or  one  tittle  shall 
in  no  wise  pass  away  from  the  Law  till  all  things  be  accom- 
plished" (v.  18).  He  seems,  indeed,  in  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount,  to  criticise  and  modify  the  Law  in  certain  partic- 
ulars. The  modifications,  however,  when  we  examiiie  them 
closely,  are,  with  perhaps  one  exception,  not  an  attack  on 
the  fundamental  principles  of  the  Old  Testament.  When 
he  declares  against  the  habit  of  swearing,  on  the  ground  that 
it  is  irreverent  and  unnecessary,  this  does  not  impugn  the 
moral  principle  of  the  Old  Testament,  which  required  the 
performance  of  oaths  made  to  the  Lord ;  it  is  rather  the 
utterance  of  a  more  developed  religious  feeling,  which  per- 
ceives the  inutility  of  primitive  modes  of  religious  service. 
So,  also,  his  command  not  to  resist  evil  is  directed  against 
the  legal  prescription  :  "  An  eye  for  an  eye  and  a  tooth  for 
a  tooth."  But  in  the  old  legislation  this  was  rather  a  rule 
for  the  guidance  of  the  judges  than  an  ethical  precept ;  it 
was  a  survival  of  the  old  system  of  retaliation,  which  was 
no  doubt  modified  by  the  Jewish  judges  themselves.  He, 
however,  makes  it  the  occasion  for  affirming  the  general  eth- 


268  SIX  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

ical  principle  intended  to  strike  at  the  root  of  a  purely  self- 
ish assertion  of  one's  legal  rights.  In  his  injunction  to  love 
one's  enemies  he  no  doubt  not  only  advances  beyond  the  Old 
Testament  point  of  view,  but  also  distinctly  condemns  that 
hatred  of  national  enemies  which  is  involved  in  all  the  Old 
Testament  ethics  and  is  distinctly  avowed  in  the  prophetic 
writings  and  the  Psalms.  But  these  criticisms,  whatever 
their  import,  are  not  to  be  construed  as  implying  a  rejec- 
tion of  the  Law  as  the  guide  of  life.  There  is  no  hint  in 
the  Synoptics  that  he  ever  called  in  question  its  supreme 
oblio^ation  and  authority.  He  attacked  the  traditions  of  the 
Pharisees,  but  never  the  text  on  which  they  were  based; 
and  his  hostility  seems  to  have  been  directed  not  against 
the  serious  injunctions  of  the  traditional  law  (Matt,  xxiii.  3), 
but  against  those  trifling  observances  which  interfered  with 
the  free  moral  conduct  of  life. 

It  must  be  held,  therefore,  that  his  conception  of  righteous- 
ness was  nomistic  in  so  far  as  it  was  conceived  of  by  him  as 
obedience  to  law.  The  precepts  which  he  gave  were  intended, 
not  to  set  aside,  but  to  expound  and  develop,  the  existing 
legal  system.  He  contemplated  no  fundamental  change  in 
the  national  life  ;  of  such  an  idea  there  is  no  trace  in  the 
three  first  Gospels.  As  far  as  we  can  judge,  his  hope  for  the 
nation  was  that  it  should  continue  under  the  Law,  only  with 
a  higher  spirit  of  obedience,  such  as  that  which  is  not  dimly 
expressed  by  the  prophets  Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel,  and  comes 
out  still  more  clearly  in  the  One  Hundred  and  Nineteenth 
Psalm.  But  it  is  precisely  at  this  point  that  his  conception 
of  righteousness  assumes  a  peculiar  and  revolutionary  tone. 
His  ethical  precepts  do  not  express  the  essence  of  his  idea 
of  religion.  That  is  found  in  what  he  represents  as  the  ideal 
attitude  of  the  soul  toward  God.  He  speaks,  indeed,  of  a 
higher  reward  for  the  better  spiritual  service  (^latt.  vi.  1, 15 
20,  33),  a  consideration  which,  though  not,  strictly  speaking, 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  269 

of  the  highest  ethical  character,  is  perfectly  legitimate.  But 
he  also  holds  up  the  divine  father  of  men  as  the  standard 
of  human  conduct,  and  represents  the  desire  to  be  in  perfect 
harmony  witli  him  as  the  highest  motive  of  life:  "That  ye 
may  be  sons  of  your  father  who  is  in  heaven  "  (Matt.  v.  45). 
The  very  conception  of  God  as  father  implies  a  tenderness 
of  sympathy  and  a  spirituality  of  relation  which  involved  a 
new  departure  in  religion.  It  amounts  practically  to  trans- 
ferring the  devotion  of  the  soul  from  the  outward  objective 
standard  of  law,  and  making  the  conscience  itself,  enlight- 
ened, freed,  and  stimulated  by  devotion  to  a  perfect  ideal, 
the  arbiter  of  moral  life. 

The  source  of  this  spiritual  righteousness  he  finds  in  the 
soul  itself.  His  exhortations  are  all  addressed  directly  to 
man's  will,  for  which  he  assumes  complete  independence  and 
responsibility.  He  speaks  of  no  mediator  between  God  and 
man,  describes  no  theological  process  by  which  righteous- 
ness is  to  be  obtained.  He  pictures  man  as  standing  face  to 
face  with  God  and  dealing  with  him  alone.  The  necessary 
condition  of  true  righteousness  is  that  man  should  come 
into  a  relation  of  trust  and  love  with  the  divine  father,  but 
this  relation  is  attained  by  man's  own  effort.  The  religious 
teaching  of  Jesus  may  therefore  be  termed  a  spiritual  no- 
mism,  a  principle  which  contained  the  germ  of  the  destruction 
of  formalism,  though  the  latter  has  always  maintained  itself 
in  the  Church  from  the  failure  fully  to  appropriate  the  real 
spirit  of  Jesus.  The  early  Church,  if  we  may  take  the  Epis- 
tle of  James  to  be  a  fair  exposition  of  its  belief,  did  not 
grasp  the  spirituality  of  the  Master's  conception.  The  right- 
eousness described  in  this  Epistle  is  marked  rather  by  sin- 
cerity than  by  high  spirituality.  What  the  writer  opposes  is 
false  pretence,  disregard  of  the  poor,  evil-speaking,  jealousy, 
pride,  luxury.  So  far  as  regards  the  source  of  righteousness, 
it  is  in  general  that  of  the  Old  Testament  and  of  the  Sermon 


270  SIX  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

on  the  Mount.  A  spiritual  sonship  is  recognized  :  "  Of  his 
own  will  he  hrought  us  forth  by  the  word  of  truth,  that  we 
should  be  a  kind  of  first-fruits  of  his  creatures"  (i.  IS).  On 
the  other  hand,  he  throughout  regards  men  as  the  shapers 
of  their  own  moral  characters,  and  has  nothing  to  say  of  a 
divine  transforming  power,  or  of  a  mediator  between  God 
and  man.  For  him,  true  religion  consists  in  deeds  of  charity 
to  the  afflicted  and  freedom  from  worldly  impurities  (i  27). 
One  may  receive  wisdom  from  God  if  one  ask  in  faith ;  one 
is  tempted,  not  by  God  nor  by  Satan,  but  by  one's  own  evil 
desire.  A  sinner  may  be  converted  from  the  error  of  his 
way  and  thereby  saved  from  death  by  his  fellow-man  (v.  20). 
It  is  the  conscience  that  determines  moral  guilt :  "  To  him 
who  knows  how  to  do  good  and  does  it  not,  to  him  it  is  sin" 
(iv.  17).  The  relation  of  Jesus  Christ  to  man's  righteousness 
is  scarcely  touched  on.  He  was  believed  in  as  the  Messiah 
and  the  Lord,  as  the  source  of  wisdom  and  of  health  of  body 
and  mind,  and  his  speedy  coming  was  to  be  waited  for  as  the 
consummation  of  things.  This  is  apparently  the  essence  of 
the  faith  which  the  believer  is  to  exercise  toward  Jesus, — 
acceptance  of  him  as  the  Messiah  with  faithful  obedience  to 
all  his  precepts.  Any  other  kind  of  faith  the  writer  rejects 
with  contempt,  and  indeed  appears  to  make  an  argument 
against  Paul's  conception  of  the  nature  and  office  of  faith 
without  works.  Such  a  faith,  he  says,  is  dead,  —  is  nothing 
more  than  what  demons  possess,  —  is  in  opposition  to  the 
Old  Testament  teaching,  according  to  which  Abraham  was 
justified  by  works.  It  is  obviously  the  abuse  of  the  rauline 
doctrine  against  which  the  writer  is  here  arguing  ;  but  it  is 
also  clear  that  he  himself  rejects  that  doctrine,  and  looks  on 
a  sincere  life  of  thought  and  deed  as  the  righteousness  wliich 
is  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God.  This  conception  does  not 
differ  from  that  of  the  better  Jewish  thinkers  of  the  day, 
as  indeed  the  Jewish  portion  of  the  early  Church  was  little 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  271 

more  than  a  section  of  Judaism  which  regarded  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  as  the  Messiah. 

A  radical  change  in  the  conception  of  righteousness  was 
introduced  by  the  Apostle  Paul,  a  man  who  combined  in 
his  thought  spiritual  depth  and  mystical  school-logic  in  so 
remarkable  a  manner  that  we  are  at  a  loss  to  estimate  the 
bearing  and  influence  of  his  ideas.  He  was  led  by  his  ex- 
perience to  reject  the  possibility  of  obtaining  righteousness 
through  obedience  to  an  outward  law.  A  profoundly  re- 
ligious nature,  passionately  devoted  to  his  ideal  of  perfect- 
ness,  and  at  the  same  time  keenly  introspective,  he  became 
convinced,  soon  after  (or  perhaps  before)  his  acceptance  of 
Jesus  as  the  Messiah,  of  the  futility  of  man's  efforts  to 
achieve  perfect  righteousness.  This  is  a  conclusion  which 
must  be  reached  in  a  measure  by  every  earnest  soul.  In 
Paul's  case,  the  weariness  of  human  works  was  intensified 
by  the  Jewish  ceremonial  system  and  the  huge  mass  of 
scribal  ordinances  under  which  he  had  been  brought  iip. 
He  describes  it  as  a  terrible  burden  and  bondage,  —  a  bur- 
den imposed  by  God  himself,  indeed,  for  a  wise  purpose 
(namely,  to  develop  man's  consciousness  of  sin),  but  in  itself 
inconsistent  with  liberty  of  soul  and  peace  of  mind  (Gal. 
iii.  iv. ;  Eom.  vii.).  He  had  struggled  long  to  satisfy  the 
demands  of  law,  and  the  only  result  was  that  he  was  over- 
whelmed with  the  bitterest  sense  of  his  own  moral  impo- 
tency  ;  yet  righteousness  was  an  absolute  necessity.  What, 
then,  was  man  to  do  ?  How  was  salvation  possible  ?  It 
seemed  to  Paul  that  the  perfect  righteousness  was  to  be 
prepared  and  bestowed  by  God  himself.  It  could  not  be 
of  man's  working  out ;  it  must  be  achieved  by  a  perfect 
being  to  whom  God  had  assigned  the  task  of  saving  human- 
ity, and  this  perfect  saviour  could  be  none  other  than  the 
glorified  Messiah,  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  It  is  precisely  at  this 
point  that  we  wish  to  know  the  development  in  Paul's  mind 


272  SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

of  his  conception  of  Jesus  ;  but  unfortunately  specific  his- 
torical data  for  this  purpose  are  lacking.  He  speaks'  much 
of  his  experience  in  certain  points,  but  his  knowledge  of 
Christ  he  represents  as  an  immediate  revelation,  and  he 
gives  us  no  details  of  the  mental  process  by  which  the  per- 
son of  the  Messiah  was  brought  into  connection  with  his 
consciousness  of  sin. 

Paul's  idea,  though  conceived  and  developed  in  an  origi- 
nal and  thorough  manner,  is  not  antagonistic  or  alien  to 
the  thought  of  the  time  ;  it  has  connections  with  both  the 
preceding  and  the  succeeding  Jewish  literature.  The  prin- 
ciple of  national  and  social  solidarity  had  never  lost  its 
hold  on  the  people  ;  some  of  its  cruder  features  had  been 
cast  away  (see  above,  pp.  184  f.),  but  the  essence  of  the 
thing  had  remained.  In  the  Old  Testament,  society  is  con- 
ceived of  as  a  unit  in  such  a  way  that  its  good  element 
may  set  aside  the  evil,  and  gahi  the  divine  favor  for  the 
whole.  In  a  number  of  particular  instances  the  merits  of 
the  righteous  are  spoken  of  as  transferable  to  others  :  Job 
secures  forgiveness  for  his  friends  (Job  xlii.) ;  Abraham,  by 
his  personal  interest  with  Yahwe,  gains  the  promise  that 
Sodom  shall  be  spared  for  the  sake  of  ten  righteous  men,  if 
so  many  can  be  found  in  the  city  (Gen.  xviii.) ;  ^  for  his  sake 
Abimclech  is  pardoned  and  Isaac  blessed  (Gen.  xx.  xxvi.). 
The  completest  statement  of  the  idea  is  found  in  Isaiah  liii., 
where  the  Servant  of  Yahwe  by  his  suffering  and  knowl- 
edge ^ —  that  is,  in  general  by  his  merit  —  "justifies  many," 
causes  the  nation  to  be  esteemed  righteous  by  God.  Noth- 
ing is  licre  said  expressly  of  an  imputation  of  moral  char- 
acter, but  some  such  transference  is  involved.     It  is  declared 


1  See,  on  the  other  hand,  Ezek.  xiv.  12-20;  hut  the  idea  remained   (as 
appears  from  tlie  Talmud)  in  spite  of  the  ])r(i])lict's  protest. 

2  The  precise  construction  and  meaninj;  of  the  Ilehrew  word  so  rendered 
are  doubtful ;  but  this  does  not  affect  the  general  sense. 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  273 

that  a  certain  person  designated  as  "  the  righteous  one  "  pro- 
cures that  other  persons  shall  be  pronounced  righteous  in  the 
divine  court.^  Virtually,  therefore,  recreant  Israel  is  justified, 
not  by  its  own  righteousness,  but  through  the  righteousness 
of  the  faithful  Servant.  The  same  general  idea  finds  expres- 
sion in  some  Apocryphal  books  (Ecclus  xliv.  11,  12,  19-21 ; 
Song  of  the  Three  Children,  12),  and  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment, in  the  form  of  intercession,  in  James  v.  16  (cf.  Luke 
xxii.  32).  The  Talmud  develops  the  idea  of  the  transference 
of  merit  and  imputation  of  righteousness  in  a  remarkable 
manner.  A  great  role  in  the  history  of  the  nation  is  as- 
cribed to  that  righteousness  of  Abraham  and  others  which 
had  procured  them  favor  with  God  and  influence  in  his  coun- 
cils, while  to  the  righteous  is  assigned  an  almost  unlimited 
power.  In  one  passage  (Succa  39)  it  is  affirmed  that  "  the 
merit  of  the  righteous  is  able  to  free  the  whole  world  from 
condemnation,"  and  another  (Ber.  ]  0  b)  ventures  the  sweep- 
ing assertion  that  in  general  it  is  desirable  "to  rest  one's 
hopes  on  the  merits  of  others."  ^ 

It  would  thus  seem  probable  that  the  notion  of  the  im- 
putation or  legal  transference  of  moral  character  and  its 
merits  or  rew^ards  was  not  strange  to  Paul's  generation,  es- 
pecially not  to  that  Pharisaic  school  to  which  he  belonged. 
How  the  Jewish  thought  harmonized  this  idea  with  the 
principle  of  individual  moral  independence  and  responsi- 
bility does  not  appear,  but  it  is  clear  that  the  harmon- 
ization was  effected.  Paul,  we  may  imagine,  could  not  be 
content  with  a  vague  theory  of  the  vicarious  efficacy  of 
merely  human  righteousness  ;  his  sense  of  sin  was  too  deep. 
The  peculiarity  of  his  system  is  his  recognition  of  the 
righteousness  of  the   IVIes-siah  as  the  one  only   moral  gar- 

^  The  verb  rendered  "  justify,  make  riglitcous,"  is  a  forensic  term,  mean- 
ing "  to  pronounce  rifihteous." 

■^  On  the  doctrine  of  the  Talmud  see  Weber,  "  System,"  chs  xix.  xx. 
18 


274  SIX  AND   EIGIITEOUSXESS. 

ment  whicli  by  reason  of  its  perfectness  could  clothe  all 
humanity  with  legal  purity.  In  his  principle  of  imputation 
he  is  at  one  with  the  Old  Testament,  and  especially  with 
that  later  development  of  Old  Testament  ideas  which  is 
found  in  the  Talmud  ;  he  differs  from  both  in  the  depth 
and  fulness  of  his  moral  demands.  How  he  came  to  his 
special  view  it  is  impossible  to  say  with  definiteness.  It 
was  most  likely  an  intuition,  —  an  idea  that  burst  up  in 
his  soul  out  of  the  mass  of  material  over  which  he  had 
been  brooding ;  he  describes  it  as  a  revelation.  It  brought 
him  unity,  order,  light,  where  before  all  had  been  darkness 
and  chaos.  It  may  have  been  that  profound  prophetic  vision 
of  the  suffering  Servant  of  the  Lord  (which  he  doubtless 
interpreted  Messianically)  that  led  him  to  connect  salvation 
with  the  IMessiali's  righteousness ;  ^  and  it  seems  to  have 
been  in  connection  with  his  acceptance  of  Jesus  as  the 
Christ  that  he  perfected  his  exalted  conception  of  the  ]\Ies- 
siah's  nature  and  function.  He  seems  to  have  had  little 
knowledge  of  the  earthly  life  of  Jesus,  and  for  this  reason, 
perhaps,  the  more  readily  idealized  liim  into  the  absolutely 
perfect  Servant  of  the  Lord.  He  had  disappeared  from 
earth,  —  where  could  he  be  but  at  God's  right  hand  ?  The 
disciples  had  their  hopes,  but  Paul,  convinced  that  he  was 
the  true  Messiah  of  God,  accepting  him  as  the  risen  and 
glorified  Lord,  was  unable  to  rest  in  the  early  Church's  lim- 
ited and  undefined  idea  of  the  Messiah's  moral-spiritual 
functions.  He  could  not  restrict  the  promised  salvation 
to  a  political  deliverance  of  the  nation,  or  to  a  vague  hap- 
piness to  be  bestowed  at  the  second  coming  of  the  Christ. 
He  looked  for  a  speedy  second  coming  (Thess.,  1  Cor.  xv.), 
but  he  demanded  a  present  deliverance.  His  moral  con- 
sciousness assured  him  that  the  ]\Iessiah  had  achieved  abso- 

1  His  expression  for  "  justify  "  is  the  Greek  rendering  of  the  Hebrew 
forensic  verl)  mentioned  aliove. 


SIN  AND   EIGHTEOUSNESS.  275 

lute  deliverance  from  the  burden  of  sin  ;  for  tins,  he  held, 
was  the  only  true  deliverance  which  the  holy  God  could 
offer  to  sin-burdened  men.  Jesus  was  perfect ;  and  his  per- 
fect righteousness  offered  man  that  ideal  perfectness  with- 
out which  the  awakened  conscience  could  not  be  satisfied. 
He  found  also  in  the  Old  Testament  the  hint  of  the 
instrumentality  by  which  the  righteousness  of  the  ]\Iessiah 
was  to  be  appropriated.  It  is  said  (Gen.  xv.  6)  that  Abra- 
ham's faith  was  reckoned  to  him  for  righteousness.  It  is 
clear  from  the  connection  that  this  act  of  belief  is  here 
represented  as  part  of  Abraham's  personal  righteousness, 
not  an  appropriation  by  him  of  the  righteousness  of  another. 
But  Paul  applies  the  words  without  further  explanation, 
and  out  of  their  proper  sense,  to  the  attitude  of  the  be- 
liever toward  Christ.  There  is,  indeed,  a  profound  spirit- 
ual truth  in  this  conception,  as  will  be  pointed  out  below. 
But  Paul  takes  it,  in  the  first  instance  (Gal.,  Eom.),  in  a  lit- 
eral and  somewhat  mechanical  way,  and  develops  its  conse- 
quences with  unsparing  logic.  By  faith  in  Christ,  he  says 
(and  this  faith  must  be  regarded  as  having  a  moral-spiritual 
basis,  including  desire  to  be  freed  from  sin),  the  believer  is 
clothed  with  his  perfect  righteousness,  stands  therefore  as 
just  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  for  him  there  can  be  no  con- 
demnation ;  he  has  fulfilled  all  the  divine  commands.  It 
follows  that  man's  personal  righteousness  has  no  share  in 
effecting  his  salvation.  Whatever  its  purity  and  sincerity,  it 
can  never  be  perfect,  and  is  moreover  excluded  by  the  very 
fact  that  it  is  the  righteousness  of  Christ  which  God  accepts 
and  puts  to  the  credit  of  those  that  believe  in  him.  There 
is  absolutely  no  place  for  human  goodness  in  the  divine 
decision  respecting  man's  justification  or  condemnation. 

This  doctrine,  which  is  peculiar  to  Paul,  naturally  excited 
grave  doubts  and  opposition,  a  trace  of  which  we  find  in 
the  Epistle   of  James.     It  was,  indeed,   theoretically  anti- 


276  SIN  AND   EIGHTEOUSNESS. 

nomianism  of  the  most  thoroughgoing  sort.  It  was  an  un- 
sparing attack  on  the  Jewish  national  nomistic  scheme  of 
life.  It  was  said  by  objectors  (Rom.  vi.)  that  it  necessarily 
led  to  license,  as  indeed  it  may  well  have  done  when  em- 
braced by  ignorant,  unspiritual,  or  unconscientious  persons. 
If  obedience  to  law  availed  nothing  for  salvation,  why,  it 
might  be  asked,  should  one  be  obedient  ? 

Paul's  reply  to  this  objection  gives  him  occasion  to  bring 
out  the  profoundly  spiritual  side  of  his  plan  of  salvation.  It 
is  true,  he  says  (Eom.  vi.  vii.)  that  the  believer  is  absolved 
absolutely  from  obedience  to  the  law,  but  only  under  the 
condition  that  in  accepting  Jesus  Christ  as  Saviour  he  dies 
to  sin ;  the  old  sin-enslaved  nature  is  crucified  with  Jesus  on 
the  cross,  the  believer  is  buried  with  him  through  baptism 
into  death,  and  rises  with  him  in  newness  of  life.  In  the 
act  of  believing,  the  man  is  introduced  into  a  new  world, 
with  transformation  of  desire  and  will :  he  has  no  longer 
any  wish  to  do  what  is  contrary  to  the  divine  will ;  there 
is  a  living  spring  of  purity  and  obedience  in  his  heart. 
How  is  it  possible  that  he  should  continue  in  sin,  which 
has  become  distasteful  to  him  ?  There  were  some  wlio  sup- 
posed that  reliance  on  God's  grace  for  salvation  would  make 
men  arrogant  and  defiant, — that,  having  a  pledge  of  sal- 
vation from  God,  they  would  with  devilish  ingenuity  and 
malignity  give  free  rein  to  their  passions,  wallow  in  sin 
that  they  might  test  the  stability  of  God's  word  and  of  his 
power  to  save.  But  no,  cries  the  Apostle,  indignantly ;  such 
a  thing  is  impossible ;  the  existence  of  such  a  desire  would 
show  the  absence  of  true  faith.  He  who  believes  not  only 
has  no  desire  to  sin,  but  has  intense  desire  to  do  what  is 
pleasing  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  performs  from  an  inward 
impulse  of  love  and  with  gladness  of  soul  what  other  men 
wearily  toil  over,  urged  on  by  a  mechanical  and  commercial 
hope  of  salvation. 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  277 

Paul  does  not  develop  in  detail  the  way  in  wliich  this 
transformation  of  soul  is  accomplished,  but  we  may  gather 
his  idea  with  sufficient  distinctness  from  the  Epistles  to  the 
Galatians,  the  Corinthians,  and  the  Eomans.  In  the  first 
place,  faith  for  him  is  not  a  mere  intellectual  belief  that 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  is  the  Messiah  and  tlie  Saviour.  It  is  a 
confiding,  loving  attitude  of  the  soul  toward  God  and  Christ, 
a  completely  sympathetic  acceptance  of  the  divine  nature 
as  the  object  not  only  of  affectionate  reverence,  but  also  of 
intimate  communion,  whence  results  an  appropriation  of  and 
assimilation  to  this  divine  nature :  "  As  many  of  you  as  have 
been  baptized  into  Christ  have  put  on  Christ"  (Gal.  iii.  27); 
"  If  we  have  become  united  with  him  by  the  likeness  of  his 
death,  we  shall  be  also  by  the  hkeness  of  his  resurrection  " 
(Eom.  vi.  5).  It  is  here  left  undetermined  how  this  perfect 
assimilation  to  the  perfect  character  of  Jesus  is  effected,  — 
whether  by  the  experience  of  the  human  soul  or  by  an  im- 
mediate divine  intervention,  or  by  both.  But  it  is  clear 
from  the  Apostle's  description  of  his  own  experience  (as  in 
Piom.  vii.)  that  he  conceived  of  it  on  the  human  side  as  a 
radical  psychological  process,  the  basis  of  which  was  desire 
to  be  free  from  the  mastery  of  sin,  and  the  culmination  of 
which  was  the  establishment  of  a  hearty  and  intimate  friend- 
ship with  God.  It  is  here  that  Paul  shows'his  deep  insight 
into  human  nature.  Such  friendship  could  not  exist  while 
the  heart  was  full  of  dread  of  God  as  a  judge  who  unsparingly 
required  complete  obedience  to  his  minutest  commands  ;  such 
a  relation  (and  this  the  exaggerated  Jewish  nomism  was)  con- 
verted man  into  an  anxious,  toiling  slave.  But  now  through 
Christ  the  fear  of  failure  in  obedience  was  done  away  with, 
and  the  soul,  reconciled  to  God  (2  Cor.  v.  19),  might  lift  itself 
into  a  free  and  frank  communion  with  his  goodness. 

It  was  thus  the  power  of  an  ideal  to  wliich  Paul  appealed. 
His  experience  and  his  reflection  led  him  to  see  that  the 


278  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

mightiest  instrument  for  the  transformation  of  character  was 
the  hearty  devotion  of  the  soul  to  a  supreme  model  of  truth 
and  holiness ;  and  so  he  trusts  confidently  to  the  power  of 
faith  to  reorganize  and  perfect  man's  nature.  This  is  the 
highest  development  of  the  individual,  when  he  is  governed 
not  by  a  set  of  minute  rules  (as  was  the  case  in  the  extreme 
nomistic  scheme),  but  by  his  love  for  an  object  which  in- 
cluded in  itself  all  good.  Thus  man  might  attain  to  that 
sense  of  freedom  in  which  the  Apostle  revels  (Gal.  iv.  v), — 
full  liberty  to  follow  his  own  impulses,  knowing  that  these 
can  be  nothing  but  pure,  inasmuch  as  they  are  called  into 
being  by  an  absolutely  pure  object.  This  view  furnished 
the  necessary  complement  to  the  legal  scheme.  Obedience 
to  law  was  indispensable,^  but  it  could  be  secured  only  by 
love  of  the  deeper  principles  of  law  and  of  the  law-giver. 
This  part  of  Paul's  conception  is  contained  germinally  in 
the  Old  Testament  (as  in  Ps.  cxix.),  and  more  definitely  in 
the  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  in  which  (chs.  vii.-ix.)  wisdom  is 
really  a  divine  ideal,  the  breath  of  the  power  of  God,  the 
brightness  of  the  everlasting  light,  acquainted  with  the  mys- 
teries of  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  man's  guide  into  all 
things  pure  and  noble.  It  is  contained  substantially  in  the 
word  of  Jesus  :  "  Ye  shall  be  perfect,  as  your  heavenly  Father 

1  In  the  Apostle's  system  the  tlieoretical  freedom  of  the  believer  is  prac- 
tically controlled  in  its  judgments  by  the  content  of  tlie  divinely  revealed 
ethical  law.  The  truthfulness  of  the  conscience  is  tested  by  its  conformity 
to  the  existing  standard.  License  is  condemned  on  its  face  as  antigodly. 
Christian  liberty  is  deliverance  from  the  dogma  that  salvation  is  wrought 
out  by  obedience,  —  that  is,  from  external  ecclesia-sticism  ,  salvation  is  not 
in  the  Church,  but  in  Christ.  The  ol)ligation  to  keep  the  moral  law  remains ; 
the  obligation  of  the  ceremonial  law  falls  away  of  itself.  Such  is  the  dis- 
tinction that  runs  through  Paul's  writings.  He  assumes,  he  does  not  dis- 
cuss, the  eternal  significance  of  ethical  principle.  'I'liis  was  assumed  no  less 
by  the  Jews,  his  opponents.  Neither  i)arty  felt  called  on  to  establish  this 
universally  recognized  fact.  The  conflict  was  over  the  ritual  law;  but  it 
carried  with  it  the  deeper  question  of  the  relation  between  spiritual  freedom 
and  the  perfection  of  the  soul. 


SIN   AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  279 

is  perfect "  (Matt.  v.  48).  But  Paul  gave  it  greater  definite- 
ness,  and  it  may  be  said  more  effectiveness,  by  identifying 
it  with  the  more  definite  person  of  Jesus  and  connecting  it 
with  his  position  as  redeemer  of  man. 

From  another  point  of  view  he  connects  this  inward  trans- 
formation with  the  presence  and  indwelling  of  God  in  the 
soul,  whereby  the  spiritual  life  is  called  into  existence :  "  God 
has  sent  the  spirit  of  his  son  into  our  hearts,  crying,  Abba, 
Father"  (Gal.  iv.  6);  "Know  ye  not  that  ye  are  a  temple 
of  God,  and  that  the  spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in  you  "  (1  Cor. 
iii.  IG);  "We  all,  with  unveiled  face  reflecting  as  a  mirror 
the  glory  of  the  Lord,  are  transformed  into  the  same  image 
from  glory  to  glory  even  as  from  the  Lord,  the  spirit "  (2  Cor. 
iii.  18) ;  "  Ye  are  not  in  the  flesh,  but  in  the  spirit,  if  so  be 
that  the  spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in  you"  (Rom.  viii.  9).  Paul 
thus  seems  to  regard  the  whole  process  of  inward  salvation 
as  a  supernatural  one.  Compare  the  conception  in  Wisdom 
of  Solomon  ix.  17, 18  :  "Thy  counsel  who  has  known,  except 
thou  give  wisdom  and  send  thy  holy  spirit  from  above  ?  For 
so  the  ways  of  them  which  lived  on  the  earth  were  reformed, 
and  men  were  taught  the  things  that  are  pleasing  to  thee, 
and  were  saved  through  wisdom."  The  Apostle  does  not  ex- 
hibit in  a  systematic  way  the  relation  between  the  work  of 
the  spirit,  the  work  of  the  Christ,  and  the  faith  of  the  be- 
liever. But  his  view  seems  to  be  that  the  divine  spirit  is 
imparted  when  the  man  believes.  It  is  in  fact  simply  tlie 
Old  Testament  doctrine  of  God's  universal  creative  activity 
which  he  here  adopts  :  nothing  is  done  except  by  the  divine 
power,  and  the  spirit  is  the  representative  and  instrument 
of  the  divine  influence  on  the  soul.  In  like  manner,  Paul 
adopts  the  Old  Testament  conception  of  God's  predeter- 
mination (Ptom.  viii.  28-30),  which  in  the  thought  of  that 
time  was  merely  a  necessary  part  of  the  idea  of  God's  abso- 
lute control  of  the  world. 


280  SIN   AND   TvIGHTEOUSXESS. 

The  instrument  or  condition  of  man's  salvation,  in  Paul's 
view,  is  the  death  of  Christ :  men  are  justified  by  his  blood, 
saved  from  wrath  through  him,  reconciled  to  God  through 
his  death  (Rom.  v.).  God  condemned  sin  in  the  flesh  by 
sending  his  own  son  in  the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh  and  as 
an  offering  for  sin  (Eom.  viii.  3).  This  representation  of  the 
Messiah  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin  originated,  as  far  as  our  infor- 
mation goes,  with  Paul ;  it  is  not  found  in  the  words  of 
Jesus,  nor  in  the  speech  of  Stephen,  nor  in  the  Epistle  of 
James.  Its  germ  may  be  found  perhaps  in  Isaiah  liii.,  a 
passage  which  was  early  regarded  by  the  Jews  as  ]\Iessianic 
(Targum  of  Jonathan,  cf.  Acts  viii.  32,  33),  though  the  idea 
of  an  atoning  death  seems  not  to  have  entered  into  the  cur- 
rent Jewish  theory  of  the  Messiah.^  Paul  doubtless  reached 
his  position  by  the  combination  of  the  two  ideas  that  the 
Messiah  was  to  achieve  complete  salvation,  and  that  there 
could  be  no  salvation  without  offering  for  sin  ;  yet  it  is  to 
be  noted  that  he  lays  comparatively  little  stress  on  the  death 
of  Christ,  and  in  general  on  his  humanity  (Gal.  iv.  4).  He 
accepts  the  atoning  death  as  a  necessary  condition  of  sal- 
vation, but  looks  with  preference  to  the  risen  Saviour,  whose 
present  glory  was  both  the  type  and  the  pledge  of  the  su- 
preme blessedness  reserved  by  God  for  the  believer  :  "  If  we 
died  with  Christ,  we  believe  that  we  shall  also  live  with 
him,  knowing  that  Christ,  being  raised  from  the  dead,  dies 

1  Weber,  "  System,"  cap.  xxii.  Tlie  Targum  of  Jonathan  does  not  see  in 
Isa.  liii.  the  vicarious  suffering,  hut  only  the  intercession  of  the  Messiah. 
The  later  Jewish  tlieology,  perliaps  under  the  pressure  of  Christian  doc- 
trine, evoked  a  subsidiaiy  Messiah,  an  Ephraimite,  whose  death  was  to  have 
atoning  efficacy.  But  of  sucli  a  rule  for  a  Messiah  there  is  no  trace  in  tlic 
existing  pre-Christian  Jewish  literature.  It  is  natural  to  supjwse  that  it  was 
tlie  deep  sense  of  tlie  sinfulness  of  sin  tliat  forced  the  idea  on  tlie  mind  of 
I'aul ;  it  was  for  liim  and  for  that  age  the  profoundest  explanation  of  tiie 
death  of  the  Messiah.  An  historical  connection  might  be  sought  between 
this  view  and  the  old-Semitic  conception  of  tlie  death  of  the  man-God  (as 
in  tlie  Adoni.s-ciilt).  If  tliis  latter  conception  was  a  familiar  one  in  the  first 
century  of  our  era,  it  may  have  helped  to  shape  the  Cliri.slian  doctrine. 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  281 

no  more,  death  no  more  has  dominion  over  him.  The  death 
tliat  he  died,  he  died  to  sin  once  for  all,  but  the  life  that  he 
lives,  he  lives  to  God  ;  even  so  reckon  ye  also  yourselves  to 
he  dead  to  sin,  but  alive  to  God  in  Christ  Jesus  "  (Rom.  vi. 
8-11,  cf.  iv.  25,  Phil.  iii.  10).  It  was  the  living  Jesus  to 
whom  he  looked  as  the  source  of  spiritual  life,  and  he  could 
call  his  preaching  the  gospel  of  the  resurrection. 

We  may  sum  up  Paul's  doctrine  of  saving  righteousness 
as  follows  :  its  legal  condition  is  the  sacrificial  death  of  Jesus 
Christ ;  its  ethical  content  is  the  personal  righteousness  of 
Christ ;  its  source  is  the  power  of  the  living,  glorified  Christ 
committed  to  him  by  God  and  exercised  through  the  spirit ; 
its  human  condition  is  the  humble  and  grateful  recognition 
of  Jesus  as  the  perfect  ideal,  through  whose  presence  the 
soul  is  transformed.  Thus  we  may  see  the  difference  be- 
tween Paul's  teaching  and  that  of  Jesus :  for  the  latter,  the 
ideal  is  God  ;  for  the  former,  Jesus  as  the  glorified  son  of 
God.  The  latter  accepts  man's  personal  righteousness,  only 
purified  by  spirituality ;  the  former  rejects  human  righteous- 
ness, which  seems  to  him  necessarily  impure,  and  substitutes 
for  it  perfect  righteousness  of  the  Christ,  with  the  condition 
that  the  soul  in  the  act  of  believing  is  quickened  into  free, 
ethical  activity.  Jesus  thinks  of  an  inward  transformation 
wrought  by  the  communion  between  man's  will  and  God's ; 
Paul  demands  a  new  divine  creation,  Jesus  brings  tlie  soul 
face  to  face  with  God;  Paul  interposes  the  person  of  the 
Christ  as  reconciler. 

The  subsequent  development  of  the  idea  of  righteousness 
in  the  Pauline  school  variously  combines  the  elements  of 
Paul's  thought.  The  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians  represents  the 
sacrificial  death  of  Christ  as  the  cause  of  the  reconciliation 
of  God  and  man  (ii.  13  ;  v.  2  ;  ii.  16)  ;  believers  are  raised 
with  him  (ii.  6),  and  he  dwells  in  their  hearts  through  faith 
(iii.  17) ;  the  new  inward  nature  of  man  is  created  by  God  in 


282  Sm  AND  EIGHTEOUSNESS. 

righteousness  and  holiness  (iv.  24),  and  Christ  is  the  ethical 
standard  of  growth  (iv.  13)  ;  salvation  is  not  of  works,  but 
the  believer  is  created  in  Christ  Jesus  for  good  works  (ii.  9, 
10).  We  here  recognize  the  essential  points  of  Paul's  doc- 
trine, without  the  systematic  development  which  he  gives. 
Faith  secures  to  the  believer  the  benefits  of  Christ's  death, 
and  there  is  the  Pauline  indefiniteness  as  to  the  precise  re- 
lation between  the  function  of  this  death  and  the  trans- 
forming power  of  God.  Substantially  the  same  view  is  given 
in  Colossians.  Believers  die  with  Christ  (ii.  20),  are  raised 
with  him  (iii.  1),  their  life  is  hid  with  him  in  God  (iii.  3). 
A  modified  view  of  the  effect  of  Christ's  sufferings  is  given 
(i.  24)  by  the  statement  that  believers  fill  up  by  their  own 
aflflictions  what  is  lacking  in  the  afflictions  of  Christ.  The 
conception  is  that  the  earthly  life  of  Jesus,  with  all  its  ele- 
ments, is  the  ground  of  the  salvation  which  he  accomplished ; 
the  significance  of  his  death  as  a  single  act  becomes  thus  rel- 
atively less  important.  In  the  conception  of  salvation  stress 
is  laid  on  the  inward  transformation  of  soul  and  union  with 
Christ,  and  faith  does  not  play  the  prominent  part  which 
Paul  assigns  it.  Though  Christ  is  said  to  blot  out  the  legal 
ordinances  which  are  hostile  to  the  soul  (ii.  14),  yet  we  find 
no  trace  of  Paul's  thoroughgoing  rejection  of  law  and  works. 
Very  similar  is  the  idea  of  righteousness  given  in  the  First 
Epistle  of  Peter  (i.  19  ;  ii.  24 ;  i.  3  ;  iii.  21 ;  iv.  1,  13) ;  but 
in  declaring  that  believers  are  priests  whose  sacrifices  are 
acceptable  through  Christ  (ii.  5),  and  that  they  purify  their 
souls  in  obedience  to  the  truth  (i.  22),  the  author  withdraws 
from  Paul's  technical  position,  regarding  righteousness  rather 
as  the  act  of  the  soul,  though  its  possibility  is  conditioned 
on  the  deatli  and  resurrection  of  Christ. 

Still  farther  removed  from  the  Pauline  point  of  view  is 
the  position  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  whose  doctrine 
is    substantially   that   of   the  Old  Testament   with   certain 


SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  283 

modifications  of  detail.  Christ,  as  offering  and  priest,  is 
the  author  of  salvation  (v.  9) ;  he  is  intercessor  (vii.  25),  the 
mediator  of  the  new  covenant  (viii.  6  ;  xii,  24),  and  attained 
his  position  at  the  right  hand  of  God  by  despising  the  shame 
and  enduring  the  suffering  of  his  earthly  life  (xii.  2,  3). 
Faith  is  not  belief  in  Christ  whereby  we  are  freed  from 
the  Law,  but  confidence  toward  God  (vi.  1 ;  x.  23,  36-39  ; 
xi.),  —  the  Old  Testament  scheme  of  righteousness,  with 
the  substitution  of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  old  sacrifices  and 
priesthood. 

The  First  Epistle  to  Timothy,  while  it  regards  Christ  as 
Saviour  (i.  15  ;  ii.  5,  6),  takes  a  distinctly  un-Pauline  view 
of  the  law,  which  it  regards  as  good  and  necessary  in  itself 
if  it  be  used  lawfully  (i.  8),  and  made  not  for  the  righteous, 
but  for  the  wicked ;  that  is,  the  law  furnishes  the  standard 
of  moral  conduct,  being  herein  identical  with  the  "  sound 
doctrine"  of  the  Gospeh^  Its  more  universalistic  view  is 
shown  not  only  by  its  ignoring  the  idea  of  the  imputation 
of  Christ's  righteousness,  and  laying  stress  on  man's  own 
moral  effort,  but  also  by  its  representation  of  God  as  the 
Saviour  of  all  men  (ii.  3  ;  iv.  10).  Second  Timothy,  an  earlier 
production,  has  substantially  the  same  view  as  First  Peter 
(i.  10  ;  ii.  11 ;  iii.  15),  and  Titus  approaches  nearer  the  Paul- 
ine type  by  the  rejection  of  works  as  the  ground  of  salvation 
(ii.  11,  14;  iii.  4-7). 

The  Fourth  Gospel,  ignoring  the  details  of  human  eth- 
ical effort,  conceives  of  righteousness  as  a  necessary  accom- 
paniment of  entrance  into  the  world  of  light.  The  historical 
condition  of  this  entrance  is  the  sacrificial  death  of  Christ 
(i.  29)  and  faith  in  him  and  in  God  (iii.  16  ;  v.  24).  He 
frees  from  sin  (viii.  26)  ;  life  is  the  abiding  in  him  (xv.  4) ; 

1  Paul  also  regards  the  moral  law  as  good  in  itself  (Rom.  ii.  vii.),  but  treats 
it  as  helpless  and  obstructive,  so  far  as  regards  salvation  (vii.  9),  while  for 
Pirst  Timothy  it  is  a  normal  and  beneficial  element  of  religious  life. 


284  SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

sin  is  the  rejection  of  him  (xvi.  8).  At  the  same  time,  it 
is  a  new  birth  of  the  soul  which  ushers  one  into  the  king- 
dom of  God  (iii.  3,  5).  It  is  the  divine  interposition  which 
divides  mankind  into  the  two  masses  of  light  and  darkness ; 
and  while  it  is  declared  that  they  who  do  truth  come  to 
the  light  (iii.  21),  yet  they  only  can  come  whom  God  leads. 
Eighteousness  means  the  possession  of  the  light-nature,  which 
manifests  itself  by  the  acceptance  of  Jesus  as  the  Son  of  God, 
the  spiritual  food  and  drink  of  man,  the  only  way  to  God, 
the  absolute  truth,  the  essential  life.  The  same  conception 
of  union  with  Christ  as  the  source  of  righteousness  is  found 
in  the  First  Epistle  of  John  (iii.  6).  The  Epistle,  however, 
emphasizes  the  human  activity  more  than  the  Gospel :  for- 
giveness is  obtained  by  confession  (i.  9),  and  the  world  is 
overcome  by  the  love  of  God  (ii.  12-17). 

This  conception  of  righteousness  connects  itself  with  that 
view  of  the  world  which  in  the  prologue  to  the  Fourth  Gos- 
pel has  the  Logos  for  its  centre  and  explanation.  The  world 
had  been  created  through  the  divine  Word  ;  yet  it  lay  in 
darkness,  the  darkness  of  sin,  the  origin  of  which- is  not  ex- 
plained. The  world  was  his  own,  yet  it  knew  him  not.  The 
reign  of  the  Jewish  Law  belonged  also  to  the  period  of  dark- 
ness ;  the  darkness  was  dispelled  by  the  manifestation  of 
grace  and  truth  through  Jesus  Christ,  in  whom  was  the 
manifestation  of  God  himself.  The  divine  influence  affects 
the  individual  soul.  No  process  of  moral  regeneration  is 
described  ;  there  is  a  new  spiritual  creation  (iii.  3)  parallel 
to  the  physical  creation  in  the  beginning.  At  a  moment  in 
tlie  past  God  through  the  Word  had  called  the  world  into 
being  ;  now,  at  the  appointed  time  (after  ages  of  unex- 
plained darkness  and  doubt),  the  Word  had  appeared  in 
human  form,  bringing  divine  light  and  eternal  life.  Every 
vestige  of  nationalism  has  here  disappeared  ;  the  relations 
of  God  are  primarily  not  with  the  Jews,  but  with  human- 


SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  285 

ity.^  In  the  moral-spiritual  history  of  the  world  the  author 
sees  the  divine  creative  activity.  He  thus  expresses  sub- 
stantially the  thought  of  Jesus,  that  human  perfection  lies 
in  communion  with  the  divine  father,  only  the  thought  is 
clothed  in  the  form  of  the  Jewish-Alexandrian  philosophy. 
The  history  of  the  idea  of  righteousness  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment involves  the  interplay  of  three  conceptions  :  the  Old 
Testament  idea  of  personal  goodness,  Paul's  scholastic  scheme 
of  imputed  righteousness,  and  the  transformation  of  the  soul 
by  union  with  Christ  or  by  tlie  direct  power  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  The  first  of  these  maintained  itself  throughout,  more 
or  less  modified  by  the  conviction  (which  is  found  also  in 
the  Old  Testament)  that  true  goodness  is  the  gift  of  God. 
The  Pauline  idea  of  imputation,  devised  by  a  logical  mind 
to  meet  a  specific  Jewish  objection,  seems  to  have  faded 
away  with  the  crisis  which  gave  it  birth.  It  appears  in 
not  very  prominent  shape  in  Second  Timothy,  Titus,  and 
First  Peter,  and  at  a  later  time  virtually  withdrew  from 
the  field.  The  more  simple  ethical  conception  of  righteous- 
ness as  personal  thought  and  conduct  is  found  particularly 
in  Hebrews  and  First  Timothy,  and  to  a  greater  or  less 
extent  in  all  the  other  Epistles  ;  it  is  in  fact  too  obvious 
and  necessary  a  conception  of  life  to  be  got  rid  of  except 
in  transient  moments  of  fanaticism.  The  profounder  con- 
ception of  inward  transformation  is  especially  prominent  in 
Ephesians  and  Colossians  (union  with  Christ),  and  in  the 
Fourth  Gospel  and  the  First  Epistle  of  John  (renewal  of 
heart)  ;  and  whatever  the  particular  scheme  of  righteous- 
ness and  salvation,  the  appeal  of  all  the  New  Testament 
writers  is  to  the  consciousness  and  will  of  men. 


1  The  statement  in  John  iv  22,  that  salvation  is  from  the  Jews,  is  not, 
rightly  considered,  in  opposition  to  this  universality  of  view.  Out  of  Juda- 
ism, indeed,  had  come  tlie  manifestation  of  salvation ;  but  the  authoi-  of  the 
Fourth  Gospel  everywhere  assumes  a  hostile  attitude  toward  the  Jews,  and 


286  SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

Thus  Jewish  national  nomism,  which  had  successfully 
withstood  the  assaults  of  Hellenism,  succumbed  to  a  spirit- 
ual force  which  sprang  from  its  own  bosom.  It  v»^as  supe- 
rior, as  an  organized  religion,  to  the  religious  thought  of 
the  Greeks ;  it  had  more  definiteness  and  intensity,  greater 
control  over  the  moral-religious  life,  and  it  was  in  com- 
pleter harmony  with  men's  growing  unitary  conception  of 
the  world.  While,  therefore,  it  was  not  averse  to  accepting 
a  certain  Greek  coloring,  it  maintained  its  organized  exist- 
ence over  against  Hellenism  unimpaired.  Its  own  life  had, 
however,  called  forth  needs  which  it  was  powerless  as  a 
system  to  satisfy.  Increasing  moral-religious  experience  and 
reflection  had  awakened  in  the  Jewish  consciousness  more 
definite  demands  for  self  centred  and  complete  moral  power, 
for  inward  purity  and  harmony  with  the  divine  will.  The 
Jewish  Hellenizing  philosophy  and  the  great  legal  schools 
endeavored  in  one  direction  and  another  to  realize  in  life 
the  higher  ideals  which  became  distincter  with  every  gen- 
eration. But  the  national  ritual,  which  had  been  growing 
for  centuries,  and  had  interwoven  itself  inextricably  with 
the  moral-spiritual  consciousness  of  the  people,  stood  griev- 
ously in  the  way  of  a  satisfactory  isolation  of  the  higher 
ideals.  The  necessity  for  getting  rid  of  the  mass  of  cere- 
monial and  other  external  details  became  more  and  more 
evident,  and  Christianity  came  forward  to  achieve  this  end. 
The  founder  of  Christianity  responded  to  the  needs  of  his 
times  and  of  humanity  by  announcing  the  two  universal  and 
eternal  principles  of  inward  truthfulness  and  harmony  with 
the  divine  father  of  men.  He  did  not  attack  the  national 
system  as  such,  but  he  laid  down  a  scheme  of  life  which 
struck  at  the  roots  of  nationalism  and  laid  the  foundations 
for  a  righteousness  sufficient  for  all  times  and  places  :  the 

the  antithesis  which  he  presents  is  not  hetween  Judaism  and  Gentilism,  but 
between  light  and  darkness,  belief  and  unbelief. 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  287 

conscience  as  subjective  standard  and  guide  ;  God,  the  moral 
ideal,  as  objective  law  and  aim ;  outward  and  inward  abso- 
lute purity  and  sincerity.  To  these  all-embracing  principles 
he  added  nothing ;  he  said  nothing  further  of  the  details  of 
moral  reconstruction  and  development.  The  elaboration  of 
the  details  was  effected  by  the  great  theologians  who  fol- 
lowed him.  His  person  became  the  centre  of  a  new  con- 
ception of  moral-spiritual  life.  The  secret  of  salvation  was 
sought  not  in  his  teaching,  but  in  himself, — in  himself  not 
as  an  ideal  and  inspiration,  but  as  the  divinely  endowed 
creator  of  spiritual  life  and  happiness.  Paul,  looking  at  the 
problem  from  the  Jewish  national  point  of  view,  in  despair 
at  man's  moral  impotency,  cast  away  human  righteousness, 
and  substituted  for  it  the  righteousness  of  the  Christ,  made 
available  by  his  death,  and  accompanied  by  an  inward  trans- 
formation wrought  by  the  divine  spirit.  The  author  of  the 
Fourth  Gospel,  following  Alexandrian  Greek-Jewish  ideas, 
thought  of  the  Master  as  the  divine  "Word,  manifesting  the 
moral  glory  of  God  in  the  world,  bringing  an  atmosphere 
of  light  and  life,  in  the  midst  of  which  dwelt,  transformed 
and  saved,  those  who  were  chosen  and  led  by  God.  Unlike 
Paul,  he  takes  no  account  of  the  national  legal  scheme ; 
he  takes  refuge  alone  in  the  absolute  manifestation  of  the 
divine  goodness  and  power,  within  which  is  life,  without 
which  is  death.  It  may  be  added  that  an  approach  to  a 
purely  ethical  scheme  of  righteousness  is  found  in  that  cir- 
cle of  Christian  thinkers  which  is  represented  by  the  Epistle 
of  James  ;  not  the  Stoic  system,  but  the  old  Hebrew  pro- 
phetic conception,  wherein,  general  provision  for  sin  having 
been  made  by  a  divinely  appointed  sacrifice,  the  righteous- 
ness acceptable  to  God  is  manifested  by  obedience  to  his 
moral  precepts.  Later  Christianity  endeavored,  with  vary- 
ing fortunes,  to  combine  these  different  points  of  view  into 
a  single  system  of  theology  and  life. 


288  SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

Christian  antinomism  grew  out  of  Judaism,  but  was  not 
embraced  by  the  Jewish  people.  Christianity  speedily  passed 
into  the  hands  of  the  Gentiles ;  the  Jews  retained  their  na- 
tional system.  Nomism  included  the  sacrificial  ritual  and  the 
every-day  legal-ceremonial  prescriptions  of  personal  purity 
and  obedience.  The  sacrificial  system  vanished  when  the 
temple  was  destroyed,  but  Judaism  clung  to  the  rest  of 
the  ceremonial  as  the  law  of  its  life.  It  distinctly  rejected 
the  innovations  of  Christianity, — the  Messiahship  of  Jesus 
of  Nazareth,  the  atoning  efficacy  of  his  death,  his  exaltation 
to  the  right  hand  of  God,  the  substitution  of  his  righteous- 
ness for  the  righteousness  of  obedience,  the  expectation  of 
his  reappearance  on  earth  to  usher  in  the  dispensation  of 
blessedness.  But  its  severance  from  Christianity  does  not 
imply  that  it  remained  morally  and  religiously  stagnant. 
Its  ethical  code  was  substantially  the  same  as  the  Chris- 
tian ;  its  ethical  development,  like  the  Christian,  was  deter- 
mined by  social  conditions.  Neither  in  the  early  centuries 
nor  in  the  Middle  Age  nor  in  our  own  times  is  it  possible 
to  discover  any  marked  ethical  difference  between  Jews  and 
Gentiles ;  Shylock  and  Antonio  are  on  a  par  in  this  regard. 
In  the  sphere  of  religion,  also,  Judaism,  like  Christianity, 
has  taken  its  tone  and  coloring  from  tlie  clianging  phases 
of  social  growth.  The  national  nomistic  idea,  to  which  the 
Jews  remained  faithful,  has  been  modified  from  time  to  time, 
notably  by  Maimonides,  and  then  more  radically  by  ]\Ioses 
Mendelssohn.  These  modifications  have  been  in  the  direction 
of  greater  spirituality  and  ethical  distinctness.  Christianity 
and  Judaism  may  be  looked  on  as  parallel  developments, 
starting  from  the  same  general  material,  seeking  the  moral- 
spiritual  ideal  by  different  paths.  Their  lines  of  advance  have 
been  determined  by  the  elements  of  civilization  which  en- 
tered into  their  lives.  It  is  the  intense  nationalism  of  the 
Jews  which,  by  isolating  them  more  or  less  from  the  gen- 


SIN  AND   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  289 

eral  European  thought,  has  rendered  their  peculiar  develop- 
ment possible. 

In  our  discussion  of  the  idea  of  righteousness  the  distinc- 
tion between  nomism  and  antinomism  has  been  sharply- 
drawn,  in  order  to  bring  out  more  clearly  the  contrast  be- 
tween the  two  conceptions  of  life.  It  must,  however,  be 
borne  in  mind  that  this  distinction  has  had  no  such  clear 
historical  embodiment.  Judaism  has  never  been  all  no- 
mistic,  nor  Christianity  all  antinomistic.  Each  of  these 
systems,  wdiile  following  a  definite  general  path,  exhibits 
movements  in  other  directions.  There  is  a  substantial  agree- 
ment between  the  Old  Testament,  the  Jewish  Alexandrian 
literature,  the  Palestinian  legal  teaching,  and  the  New  Testa- 
ment. These  must  all  be  regarded  as  products  of  the  com- 
bination and  interplay  of  two  conceptions  :  inward  spiritual 
regeneration,  and  conformity  to  divinely  given  external  law, 
both  of  which  are  essential  constituents  of  religious  life, 
and  can  never  vanish  from  the  human  ideal.  Judaism,  in 
manitaining  its  national  law,  did  not  forget  the  inward 
reconstruction  which  is  taught  in  the  Old  Testament. 
Christianity,  in  rejecting  the  Jewish  sacrificial  ritual  and 
traditional  ceremonial  law,  substituted  a  nomism  of  its  own. 
The  Church  has  always  had  its  systems  of  prescriptions, 
obedience  to  which  it  regarded  as  a  necessity.  What  Chris- 
tianity did  was  to  deliver  to  the  Gentile  world  the  pure 
and  lofty  Jewish  ethical  monotheism  freed  from  the  burden 
of  Jewish  nationalism.  It  thus  gave  freer  play  to  moral- 
spiritual  forces  by  divorcing  them  from  the  restrictions  of 
particular  nationalities.  Christianity  represents  the  great- 
est effort  of  the  world  to  impose  the  necessary  restrictions 
on  nomism,  —  to  combine  that  inward  purity,  without  which 
virtue  is  mechanical  and  lifeless,  witli  that  obedience  to 
law  apart  from  which  conscience  must  always  be  an  unsafe 
guide. 

19 


290  SIN  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

The  doctrine  of  the  sacrifice  of  the  exalted  Christ,  the 
Son  of  God,  embodies  the  highest  and  final  conception  of 
an  external  satisfaction  for  sin.  It  sprang  out  of  the  ideas 
of  the  first  century,  Jewish  and  perhaps  Gentile.  Mewed 
at  first  simply  as  a  substitute  for  the  old  national  sac- 
rifices, the  death  of  the  Messiah  was  afterward  variously 
explained  by  Christian  theologians.  By  its  majestic  and 
awful  character  it  represents,  as  has  been  said,  a  deeper 
sense  of  the  terribleness  of  offence  against  the  divine  law. 
All  advance  in  the  intensity  of  plans  and  methods  of  sal- 
vation depends  on  increase  of  the  seriousness  with  which 
men  look  on  the  moral  problems  of  life.  What  a  contrast 
between  the  simple  joyousness  of  Deuteronomy  and  the 
terrible  seriousness  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Eomans !  The  in- 
terval between  these  books  is  marked  by  constant  ethical 
progress  ;  the  idea  of  righteousness  becomes  higher  and 
higher,  the  sense  of  sin  more  and  more  profound.  The  cul- 
mination of  outward  method  is  reached  when  God  is  con- 
ceived as  giving  his  own  Son  to  achieve  forgiveness  and 
righteousness  for  man.  There  is  only  one  thing  higher,  — 
that  is  the  method  of  Jesus,  —  the  transformation  of  the 
soul  by  communion  with  the  absolute  ideal  of  holiness. 


CHAPTER  V. 

ETHICS. 

'T^O  the  foregoing  discussion  of  what  was  held  to  consti- 
^  tute  righteousness  in  the  sight  of  God  we  may  append 
a  brief  account  of  the  historical  development  of  the  content 
of  the  ethical  code.  We  need  not  stop  to  inquire  into  the 
philosophical  grounds  of  Hebrew  ethics.  For  such  an  in- 
quiry tliere  is  little  material.  Abstract  psychological  and 
social  investigations  do  not  belong  to  the  mental  habits  or 
the  aims  of  the  biblical  writers,  who  are  concerned  only 
with  practical  morality.  The  question  of  the  nature  of  con- 
science and  the  origin  of  men's  judgments  concerning  right 
and  wrong  is  not  discussed  in  the  Bible.  There  is  no  spec- 
ulation respecting  determinism  and  indeterminism  ;  man's 
practical  freedom  is  everywhere  assumed.  There  is  no  co- 
ercion of  the  will  by  God,  demon,  or  man  ;  every  man  is 
held  responsible  for  his  deeds,  and  the  inner  history  of  his 
will  is  not  further  investigated.  Joseph's  brethren  "  could 
not"  speak  peaceably  to  him  because  their  malice  got  the 
better  of  their  kindly  feeling,  Yahwe  hardened  Pharaoh's 
heart  ;  but  Pharaoh  also  hardened  his  own  heart.  Evil 
spirits  enticed  prophets  ;  but  the  prophets  were  of  their 
own  motion  false.  Satan  tempted  David  and  Judas,  and 
the  king  and  the  betrayer  were  none  the  less  held  guilty. 
The  heathen,  says  Paul,  are  worthy  of  death  for  acting 
according  to  that  reprobate  mind  to  which  God  gave  them 
up;  and  unbelievers  blinded  by  the  god  of  this  world,  per- 
ish in  their  unbelief.     The  wretchedness  of  the  natural  life, 


292  ETHICS. 

exclaims  the  Apostle,  lies  in  the  conflict  of  impulses,  the 
passions  doing  what  the  better  judgment  condemns.  So 
in  respect  to  the  rules  of  good  conduct :  these  are  regarded 
in  the  books  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  with  per- 
haps one  exception  (Ecclesiastes),  as  resting  solely  on  the 
commands  of  God,  and  the  motive  which  is  urged  for 
well-doing  is  the  desire  to  obtain  divine  rewards  or  escape 
divine  punishments.  It  is  a  purely  practical  interest  that 
controls  the  ethical  thought  of  the  Bible.  The  question 
before  it  is  :  What  is  the  conduct  that  pleases  God  ?  In 
point  of  fact,  the  Jewish  ethical  code,  like  that  of  other 
peoples,  changed  with  the  changing  social  conditions  and 
the  consequent  rise  of  new  ideals.  To  follow  tliis  history 
in  minute  detail  would  require  a  treatise ;  all  that  will  be 
attempted  here  is  a  short  outline  of  the  historical  progress 
of  the  code  and  of  the  circumstances  which  determined  its 
line  of  growth. 

1.  The  Jewish  moral  code  of  the  fifth  century  B.  c.  (con- 
tained in  the  prophets  and  the  Law)  was  a  broad  and  noble 
one,  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  best  of  the  time. 
Within  the  limits  of  the  nation  it  recognized  not  only  the 
administrative  duties  of  honesty  and  justice  but  also  the 
gentler  virtues  of  kindness  and  love  to  the  poor  and  dis- 
tressed and  to  all  one's  brethren.  This  appears  to  be  the 
acme  of  the  purely  Jewish  national  ethical  development. 
Tn  spite  of  contact  with  other  peo})les,  tlic  nation  had  up 
to  this  time  maintained  the  old  social  isolation.  In  the 
early  days  there  had  been  amalgamation  with  the  Canaan- 
itish  tribes,  out  of  which  was  formed  the  Israelitish  nation. 
Once  formed,  the  people  worked  out  its  life  substantially  in 
its  own  way,  down  to  the  Greek  conquest.  Intercourse  with 
Babylon  and  Persia,  though  influential  in  the  suggestion  of 
ideas,  yet  left  the  old  national  unity  unimpaired.  The  eth- 
ical growth  during  this  period  may  thus  be  called  national. 


ETHICS.  293 

There  was  no  outlook  beyond  liome-bounds ;  the  mternational 
sentiment  had  not  been  distinctly  cultivated ;  there  was  no 
distinct  recognition  of  the  full  rights  of  aliens  ;  the  social 
conditions  had  not  pressed  this  conception  on  the  moral  con- 
sciousness of  the  people.  The  later  purely  national  books, — 
most  of  the  Psalms,  for  example,  —  while  they  maintain  the 
high  administrative  standard,  are  full  of  bitterness  toward 
enemies.  Jewish  morality,  in  a  word,  like  other  ethical  sys- 
tems of  the  time,  bears  the  impress  of  national  isolation. 

2.  The  new  social  conditions  which  the  Greek  conquest 
forced  on  the  Jews  are  well  known.  Not  only  were  they 
brought  into  closer  contact  with  individuals  of  other  nation- 
alities, they  were  compelled  to  enter  into  a  confederation 
of  peoples,  and  were  thus  led  more  and  more  to  recognize 
a  bond  of  brotherhood  among  all  men.  Their  experience  in 
this  regard  was  the  common  experience  of  the  Griieco-Eoman 
world  ,  its  results  were  seen  in  all  the  moralists  of  the  time, 
whether  Greek,  Eoman,  or  Jewish.  Human  nature  remained 
much  the  same ;  there  were  good  and  bad  men  everywhere, 
—  Hillels  and  Herods,  Johns  and  Judases ;  but  the  social 
code  was  gradually  assuming  a  new  tone.  The  ethical  re- 
flection of  the  new  conditions  is  found  in  a  portion  of  the 
Jewish  literature  of  the  two  centuries  before  the  beginning 
of  our  era.  The  Psalms  are,  by  their  nature,  the  expression 
of  national  feeling.  Profoundly  religious,  they  do  not  rise 
above  the  level  of  the  old  prophetic  morality ;  they  illus- 
trate the  law,  of  which  there  are  so  many  other  expressions, 
that  the  paths  of  growth  and  stadia  of  development  of  re- 
ligion and  morality  are  not  always  the  same  in  the  same 
community  and  the  same  period.  On  the  other  hand,  in 
Proverbs,  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  Ecclesiasticus,  and  in  the  say- 
ings of  the  great  lawyers,  we  find  a  distincter  recognition 
of  individual  social  relations  and  of  the  law  of  kindness  ; 
exhortation   to   heal   differences    between    neighbors   (Prov. 


294  ETHICS. 

XXV.  9);  to  admonish  in  kindness  those  who  offend  us 
(Ecchis.  xix.  13-17)  ;  to  cover  transgression  by  friendly  for- 
getfulness  or  guidance  (Prov.  xvii.  9) ;  to  be  helpful,  to  lend 
and  give  alms  freely  (Ecclus.  xxix.  2,  12,  20  ;  Tobit  iv.  7) ; 
to  forgive  injuries  in  hope  of  being  forgiven  (Prov.  xv.  1 ; 
xxiv.  29  ;  Ecclus.  xxviii.  2-5) ;  to  be  good  to  enemies  (Prov. 
xxiv.  17;  XXV.  21,  22).  We  find  also  injunctions  against 
swearing  (Ecclus.  xxiii.  29),  and  a  description  of  the  blessed- 
ness of  the  persecuted  righteous  (Wisd.  of  Sol.  iii.  4).  In 
Tobit  (iv.  15),  and  in  a  saying  of  Hillel,  we  have  the  golden 
rule  in  negative  form. 

Most  of  the  works  above  cited  belong  to  that  class  of  pro- 
ductions (the  Hokma,  the  literature  of  wisdom)  which  shows 
least  of  the  characteristic  nationalism  of  the  time,  and  it 
is  natural  to  ascribe  their  cosmopolitan  spirit  in  part  to 
the  broadening  influence  of  international  intercourse.  Tobit, 
though  a  national  book,  shows  traces  of  foreign  contact.  We 
have  seen  reason  to  believe  that  the  legal  teachers  were 
not 'unaffected  by  the  current  Greek  thought.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  Jewish  national  feeling  was  strong,  and  the  na- 
tional life  and  culture  issued  from  that  past  wbich  was 
represented  by  the  prophets  and  the  Law.  We  are  led, 
therefore,  to  conclude  that  the  higher  Jewish  morality  of 
the  period  was  a  true  national  growth,  only  broadened  and 
deepened  by  all  those  conditions  that  acted  favorably  on 
the  life  of  the  people. 

3.  Such  was  the  ethical  system  in  the  midst  of  which 
Christianity  arose  ;  and  it  is  obvious  that  it  does  nOt  dif- 
fer substantially  in  details  from  that  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. In  both  we  find  as  controlling  elements  self-mastery, 
self-sacrifice,  justice,  and  love  to  others.  Nevertheless  there 
is  a  difference,  which  meets  us  at  the  outset,  —  a  new  en- 
ergy, vividness,  enthusiasm.  The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  and 
the  other  sayings  of  Jesus  in  the  Gospels  contain  a  cer- 


ETHICS.  295 

tain  higher  something,  —  a  completer  recognition  of  the 
positive  side  of  individual  obligation  and  of  the  inward 
element  of  goodness.  The  ethical  falseness  of  certain  cere- 
monial practices  of  the  time  (Mark  vii.  5,  9-13) ;  the  neces- 
sity of  sincerity  (Matt.  vi.  2,  5,  16)  and  of  thoroughgoing 
conscientiousness  (Matt.  v.  33-37) ;  the  declaration  tliat  sin 
and  goodness  lie  in  the  thought  and  in  the  soul  (Matt.  v. 
21-32  ;  XV.  18) ;  exhortation  to  self-denial  for  duty's  sake 
(Matt.  xvi.  24) ;  the  complete  identification  of  ourselves  with 
the  interests  of  others,  and  the  obligation  to  sacrifice  our- 
selves, if  need  be,  for  the  sake  of  others  (Matt,  v  38-42,  43- 
48  ;  vii.  12) ;  the  exhortation  to  let  one's  light  shine  (v.  16), 
that  is,  not  to  limit  one's  self  to  passive  endurance  of  wrong, 
or  to  occasional  bodily  help,  but  to  recognize  the  fact  that 
each  man  is  set  to  be  a  guide  to  his  fellows,  and  must  there- 
fore so  purify  and  ennoble  himself  that  he  shall  lead  them 
not  into  error,  but  into  truth  :  ^  here  are  gathered  up  all 
the  elements  of  the  highest  ethical  character,  —  perfect  self- 
control,  enlightened  self-development,  and  complete  sym- 
pathy with  our  human  surroundings.  While  the  substance 
of  these  precepts  is  found  in  preceding  Jewish  and  non- 
Jewish  literature,  they  are  here  given  with  a  fulness  and 
symmetry  which  we  see  nowhere  else.     The  ethical-spiritual 

1  The  doctrine  of  non-resistance  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  may  fairly 
be  understood  simply  as  a  protest  against  selfish  and  unreasonable  assertion 
of  one's  rights  A  law  of  absolute  non-resistance  may  very  well  have  beeu 
the  ideal  of  Jesus,  but  it  cannot  be  asserted,  from  the  details  of  his  life  known 
to  us,  that  he  did  not  mean  it  to  be  modified  or  interpreted  by  a  wise  regard 
for  the  interests  of  the  individual  and  of  society.  An  unrestricted  rule  of  sub- 
mission must  apply  as  well  to  nations  as  to  individuals,  and  perhaps  to  men 
in  their  relations  as  well  with  beasts  as  with  men.  It  is  the  law  of  an  ideal 
society  in  which  justice  and  kindness  are  the  ruling  principles  of  a  very  large 
majority.  The  hostility  to  the  rich  expressed  in  Luke  vi.  24  can  hardly  be 
taken  in  a  spiritual  sense ,  but  it  may  be  doubted  whether  Jesus  held  such 
a  sentiment  which  accords  neither  with  the  body  of  his  teaching  nor  with 
his  conduct.  He  taught  the  equality  of  all  men  before  God,  independently  of 
worldly  conditions,  and  he  numbered  among  his  friends  ricli  as  well  as  poor. 


296  ETHICS. 

insight  of  Jesus  laid  hold  of  what  was  necessary  for  the 
complete  development  of  man's  moral  nature. 

The  purity  of  the  ethical  teaching  of  Jesus  has  been  sup- 
posed to  be  marred  by  the  religious  sanctions  which  he 
holds  up.  It  is  said  that  he  represents  love  of  one's  fel- 
luws  and  denial  of  one's  self  as  valuable  not  so  much  in 
themselves  or  for  the  maintenance  of  human  rights  as  for 
the  future  rewards  they  bring  (Matt.  vi.  1).  Here,  however, 
we  must  distinguish  between  the  ethical  ideal  and  the  re- 
ligious motive.  Whatever  prominence  may  be  given  to  the 
latter  (and  it  is  very  prominent  in  the  teaching  of  Jesus), 
this  does  not  impair  the  realness  of  the  former.  The  su- 
preme obligation  of  human  brotherhood  is  recognized;  and 
this  is  the  essential  point  for  human  conduct.  Further, 
though  the  Sermon  on  the  IMount  does  not  say  in  so  many 
words,.  "  Follow  after  justice  and  love,  because  they  are  the 
eternal  right,"  though  it  identifies  them  with  the  will  of 
God  and  thence  derives  their  authority,  it  yet  remains  true 
that  the  ultimate  ground  of  the  ethical  judgment  is  a  social 
one :  it  is  the  perception  of  human  rights  springing  out  of 
the  feeling  of  lunuan  needs,  and  it  cannot  vitiate  an  ethical 
principle  to  identify  it  with  the  ultimate  moral  basis  and 
ground  of  the  world. 

Jesus  gives  no  speculative  system  of  morals.  The  golden 
rule  is,  strictly  speaking,  inaccurate  in  expression,  since  it 
makes  one's  own  desire,  instead  of  absolute  justice,  the  guide 
of  conduct  toward  others.  But  it  is,  in  the  first  place,  the 
best  practical  safeguard  against  selfishness ;  and  in  the  sec- 
ond place,  interpreted  largely  as  the  appeal  to  an  enlight- 
ened and  ttnuler  conscience,  it  is  practically  the  safest  guide 
in  man's  dealing  with  man.  New  social  conditions  are  con- 
stantly creating  new  moral  problems.  There  are  many  mod- 
ern questions  which  are  not  considered  in  the  teaching  of 
Jesus,  the  detailed  answers  to  whicli  must  be  workcnl  out  by 


ETHICS.  297 

modern  experience ;  but  no  ethical  principle  has  yet  been  dis- 
covered more  satisfactory  than  the  s&lf-forgetting  love  which 
is  enjoined  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 

4.  The  ethics  of  the  Epistles,  so  far  as  the  content  proper 
of  the  code  is  concerned,  offers  nothing  in  addition  to  what 
has  already  been  mentioned.  James  has  the  morality  of  the 
Old  Testament  (and  with  his  description  of  wisdom,  iii.  17, 
cf.  Wisd.  of  Sol.  vii.  22,  23).  The  other  books  are  more  dis- 
tinctively Christian  in  tone.  It  is  unnecessary  to  specify 
the  particular  moral  duties  they  enjoin.  They  emphasize 
the  gentler  qualities,  —  humility,  kindness,  love.  In  1  Cor- 
inthians xiii.  Paul  rises  to  a  pitch  of  loftiest  inspiration. 
It  is  noticeable  that  the  golden  rule  in  the  form  in  which 
Jesus  gives  it  is  nowhere  quoted.  James  (ii.  8)  cites  the 
"  royal  law "  from  the  Old  Testament  :  "  Thou  shalt  love 
thy  neighbor  as  thyself ; "  and  the  content  of  Jesus'  word 
is  given  substantially  by  Paul  (1  Cor.  xiii. ;  Rom.  xii.  13). 
It  is  possible  that  Paul  and  the  author  of  the  Epistle  of 
James  were  not  acquainted  with  this  saying  of  the  Mas- 
ter. It  is  also  to  be  noted  that  the  duty  of  kindness  and 
love  is  generally  mentioned  in  connection  with  intercourse 
between  Christian  brethren.  A  negative  demeanor  is  en- 
joined toward  them  that  are  without,  —  soberness,  cautious- 
ness, forgiveness  ;  and  a  general  prohibition  of  vengeance 
is  quoted  by  Paul  (Rom.  xii.  19,  20)  from  the  Old  Testa- 
ment (Prov.  XXV.  21,  22);  but  there  is  little  exhortation  to 
exert  positive  influence  on  unbelievers,  to  seek  to  win  them 
by  kindness,  to  practise  systematic  beneficence  toward  them 
(Gal.  vi.  10).  The  explanation  of  this  omission  is  probably 
to  be  found  in  the  social  conditions  of  the  time,  the  social 
separateness  of  Christians  and  others.  Paul,  indeed,  set  the 
example  of  wise  self-adaptation  to  other  men  (1  Cor.  x.  33  ; 
ix.  19-22). 

Broader   cosmopolitan    points   of   view   may   perhaps    be 


298  ETHICS. 

found  ill  the  New  Testament  ;  as,  for  example,  the  con- 
ception of  a  universal  commonwealth  (Rom.  xii.  5 ;  Eph.  ii. 
14-19).  Such  an  idea  might  be  referred  to  Grseco-Roman 
sources.  But  it  is  to  be  observed  that  these  passages  deal 
solely  with  the  Church,  and  are  not  properly  cosmopolitan ; 
they  speak  of  a  community  in  Christ,  not  of  a  brotherhood 
of  humanity.  They  break  down  the  barrier  between  Jew 
and  Gentile  as  such  ;  and  this  was  an  important  step  for- 
ward. Similarly  the  barriers  between  nationalities  w^re 
broken  down  by  Roman  citizenship.  In  each  case  there  is 
a  unity  based,  not  on  simple  recognition  of  human  fellow- 
ship, but  on  an  external  religious  or  political  condition ; 
yet  each  represented  a  step  toward  the  idea  of  human  soli- 
darity,—  each  was  the  product  of  the  social  conditions.  The 
Christian  idea  may  have  issued  directly  and  solely  from 
the  Christian  doctrine  of  a  universal  salvation,  or  it  may 
have  been  in  part  suggested  by  Greek  philosophy  and  the 
Roman  state. 

5.  It  is  remarked  above  that  speculative  questions  re- 
specting the  origin  and  nature  of  man's  moral  conscious- 
ness and  judgments  are  not  considered  in  the  Bible.  It 
is  equally  true  that  there  is  no  recognition  of  a  purely 
earthly  and  human  end  and  aim  of  life.  The  object  every- 
where held  up  is  the  gaining  the  favor  of  God  as  the 
means  of  securing  one's  own  happiness.  The  prophets  and 
the  Law  enjoin  obedience  to  divine  commands  as  the  con- 
dition of  national  pro.sperity ;  the  Psalms  anticipate  fulness 
of  joy  in  God's  presence  and  unending  delights  through 
his  power  ;  Proverbs  commends  wisdom  as  the  bestower 
of  long  life,  riches,  honor,  and  peace  ;  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  enjoins  the  laying  up  of  treasures  in  heaven,  walk- 
ing in  the  narrow  way  of  life,  and  building  one's  house 
upon  a  rock ;  the  Epistles  urge  the  working  out  of  one's 
own  salvation  ;  and  in  Hebrews  (xii.  2)  the  motive  of  Jesus' 


ETHICS.  299 

endurance  is  said  to  be  "  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him." 
Devotion  to  the  interests  of  humanity  for  humanity's  sake 
is  nowhere  distinctly  announced  as  the  chief  aim  of  life. 
The  end  of  life  is  declared  to  be  one's  own  eternal  hap- 
piness, and  the  condition  of  happiness  to  be  obedience  to 
the  will  of  God.  So  far  this  scheme  of  life  may  be  called 
religious  egoism. 

But  on  this  point  two  remarks  must  be  made.  So  far 
as  regards  the  existence  of  an  egoistic  motive,  this  neither 
can  nor  should  be  got  rid  of,  for  the  perfection  of  humanity 
involves  the  perfection  of  one's  self  as  a  part  of  humanity ; 
obligation  to  sacrifice  or  neglect  one's  moral  perfectness  is 
inconceivable.  The  real  question,  therefore,  is  twofold  :  first, 
what  is  the  nature  of  the  self-perfection  (and  this  must  be 
identical  with  the  nature  of  the  perfection  of  humanity) 
which  is  sought  ?  and  secondly,  how  far  are  the  two  aims, 
the  perfecting  of  self  and  the  perfecting  of  humanity,  com- 
bined into  a  harmonious  unity  ?  As  to  the  first  of  these 
points,  the  self-perfection  considered  in  the  New  Testament 
(which  in  this  respect  completes  the  Old  Testament  thought) 
is  not  merely  happiness  ;  it  is  moral  union  with  God  as  the 
moral  ideal,  which  is  the  highest  conception  of  self-culture, 
and  is  therefore  a  legitimate  egoism.  As  to  the  second  point, 
devotion  to  the  interests  of  others,  though  not  a  definitely 
formulated  maxim,  is  a  practical  aim  in  the  higher  New 
Testament  scheme  of  life  (more  vaguely  hinted  at  in  the  pre- 
Christian  Jewish  literature).  Jesus  spent  his  life  in  doing 
good,  and  died  rather  than  surrender  a  principle  which  he 
believed  to  be  of  prime  importance  for  men  ;  Paul  conse- 
crated himself  unreservedly  to  what  he  held  to  be  the  high- 
est human  interests.  The  New  Testament  idea  of  duty 
involves  doing  good  to  all  men,  not  separating  one's  own 
well-being  from  the  well-being  of  others. 

The   ethical  defect   of   the   New  Testament   is   therefore 


300  ETHICS. 

speculative  ratlier  than  practical.  The  ethical  idea  is  not 
distinguished  from  the  religious  ;  the  perfecting  of  life  is 
defined  to  be  an  everlasting  salvation  which  is  to  be  se- 
cured by  certain  divinely  appointed  means.  Human  duty 
involves  the  attempt  to  bring  this  salvation  to  all  men. 
The  principle  of  devotion  to  humanity  is  not  lacking ;  but 
it  is  true  that  attention  is  fixed  less  on  the  present  life 
with  its  multifarious  social  needs,  and  nujre  on  that  im- 
pending crisis  (the  new  era  to  be  ushered  in  by  the  I\Ies- 
siah  or  else  by  death)  which  was  to  settle  the  question  of 
human  good.  The  more  definite  isolation  of  the  whole  of 
earthly  life  as  the  object  of  ethical  effort  was  reserved  for 
a  later  time. 

6.  The  distinctive  characteristic,  however,  of  the  New 
Testament  ethics  is  not  so  much  its  content  as  its  spirit. 
In  contrast  with  the  philosophic,  self-centred  calm  of  Sto- 
icism and  Epicureanism,  and  the  sober-minded  indifference 
of  Ecclesiastes,  it  is  permeated  by  warm  sympathy,  by  a 
glow  of  ardent,  natural  life.  Its  secret  is  that  it  seeks  per- 
fection not  immediately  in  self-culture  (though  this  it  does 
not  neglect\  but  in  positive  self-abandonment  to  a  higher 
will.  It  derives  its  -impulse  from  the  sentiments  of  duty  to 
God  and  gratitude  and  devotion  to  Christ  as  Saviour.  It 
is  free  from  wearing  thought  concerning  results ;  these  are 
in  the  hand  of  God.  Man's  only  care  is  to  ally  himself 
with  God  and  (lirist  in  sincere,  loving  beneficence,  secure 
in  the  conviction  that  his  present  and  his  future  are  watched 
over  and  guided  to  a  blessed  end  by  tlie  hand  of  the  divine 
father.  The  elevation  of  this  higher  spirit  to  the  distinct 
position  of  guiding  principle  must  be  ascril)ed  to  Jesus. 
His  moral  consciousness  seized  on  and  blended  into  a  vital 
unity  those  great  ideas  of  love  and  justice  which  the  na- 
tional experience  (and  all  human  experience)  had  been 
slowly  working  out  for  centuries.     Hespect  your  fellow-coun- 


ETHICS.  301 

tryman's  rights  and  love  him  as  yourself,  say  the  prophets 
and  the  Law  ;  extend  this  rule  of  reciprocity  to  all  men,  say 
the  Wisdom  books  and  the  lawyers ;  inform  it,  says  Jesus, 
with  a  glow  of  tenderness,  with  the  recognition  of  all  men 
as  sons  of  one  divine  father.  This  he  made  the  central 
principle  of  conduct  toward  others. 

It  may  be  added  that  the  form  of  faith  which  took  shape 
under  the  hand  of  Paul  v/as  better  fitted  to  stimulate  the 
ordinary  ethical  feeling  than  the  moral  code  given  in  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount.  The  latter  appealed  to  human  love 
of  perfection  and  to  the  reward  which  would  come  from  the 
favor  of  God  ;  all  else  it  left  to  man's  own  conscience  and 
will.  The  former  presented  a  grand  theological  scheme  in 
wliich  the  details  of  salvation  were  set  forth,  the  central 
figure  of  Jesus  at  once  presenting  the  idea  of  redemption 
in  definite,  tangible  shape,  and  offering  a  model  for  ethi- 
cal imitation.  It  was  the  prime  defect  of  Greek  systems 
of  philosophy,  so  far  as  regards  their  effect  on  the  masses, 
that  they  produced  no  theological  organization,  no  church 
in  which  the  warm  human  life  might  be  appropriated,  fos- 
tered, stimulated  by  a  definite  hope  of  complete  happiness  ; 
and  the  same  remark  applies  in  less  degree  to  the  religious 
reform  instituted  by  Jesus,  who  also  contemplated  not  a 
church,  but  the  purification  of  the  national  spirit.  What 
was  needed  for  the  people  was  the  embodiment  of  the  best 
ethical  law  and  spirit  in  an  organization  which  by  its  work 
and  its  sanctions  should  stimulate  human  effort  to  the  ut- 
most. This  result  was  achieved  mainly  by  the  Apostle  Paul ; 
or,  it  may  be  more  accurate  to  say,  the  work  of  church- 
organization,  begun  by  the  first  disciples,  received  a  mighty 
impulse  from  him.  Certain  peculiarities  of  his  scheme  were 
gradually  dropped,  but  the  organization  itself  was  maintained 
and  developed  in  succeeding  generations,  and  the  Church 
took  its  place  as  a  powerful  ethical  lever,  imposing  its  moral- 


302  ETHICS. 

ity  on  the  world,  and  supporting  it  by  all  those  motives  of 
gratitude  and  hope  of  reward  which  are  most  effective  in  the 
life  of  man. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  attempt  to  state,  even  in  merest 
outline,  the  actual  influence  of  Christianity  in  moulding  the 
ethical  life  of  the  world.  Such  questions  are  very  compli- 
cated and  difficult.  But  without  undertaking  to  define  the 
particular  elements  of  the  new  moral  order  of  things,  and 
recognizing  the  slowness  of  its  growth,  it  may  be  said  that 
the  ethical  outcome  of  the  Christian  teaching  was  the  more 
definite  isolation  and  formulation  of  certain  controlling  prin- 
ciples of  conduct,  and  the  implanting  of  them  in  the  general 
life  of  men  as  an  effective  everyday  power.  They  were  in- 
telligently and  vitally  accepted  only  by  the  higher  souls  ; 
but  they  secured  public  recognition  as  the  basis  of  the  eth- 
ical code,  and  thus  entered  with  fresh  vigor  on  their  task 
of  coercing  the  baser  principles  of  human  conduct.  The  pub- 
lic conscience  was  enlightened,  life  became  ethically  simpler, 
and  the  higher  maxims  more  and  more  demonstrated  their 
truth  by  the  practical  evidence  they  gave  of  conformity  to 
men's  noblest  instincts  and  best  interests.^ 

1  On  biblical  ethics,  see  the  commentaries,  works  on  the  philosophy  of 
religion  (Ffleiderer  and  otliers),  works  on  Old  Testament  theology  (Schultz, 
Oehler,  etc.)  and  New  Testament  theology  (Immer,  Weiss,  etc.),  articles 
in  encyclopedias  (Herzog-Plitt,  Lichtenberger,  etc.),  and  general  remarks 
in  works  on  general  and  Christian  ethics  (Isomer,  Gass,  Martensen,  Marti- 
neau  etc  ).  On  the  relation  between  Greek  and  Christian  ethical  ideas, 
see  O.  rfleiderer,  "Moral  und  K«ligion,"  1872;  F.  Jodl,  "Geschiclite  der 
Ethik,"  1882;  C.  E.  Luthardt,  "Die  antike  Ethik  in  ihrer  geschichtlichen;*^ 
Entwi'ckelung  als  Einleitung  in  die  Geschiclite  der  chri.stliclien  Moral," 
1887,  and  "  Geschichte  der  christlichen  Ethik  vor  der  Keformati(m,"  1888. 
On  the  ethics  of  the  Gospels,  see  J.  R.  Seeley,  "  Ecce  Homo,"  1886,  W.  M. 
Salter,  "Ethical  Religion,"  1888;  J.  A.  Broadus,  "Jesus  of  Nazareth,"  1890; 
O.  Fliigel,  "Die  Sittenlehre  Jesns,"  1888  (which  I  am  sorry  to  have  been 
unable  to  consult).  A  good  bibliography  will  be  found  in  the  "  Theologischer 
Jahresbericht." 


CHAPTEK  VI. 

THE   KINGDOM  OF   GOD. 

THE  conception  of  the  kingdom  of  God  is  a  marked 
characteristic  of  Jewish  religious  tliought,  —  perhaps 
its  most  distinctive  peculiarity.  It  is  the  idea  of  a  social 
organization  in  which  the  divine  and  human  shall  be  per- 
fectly blended,  the  social  ideal  being  complete  conformity 
to  the  divine  will  and  complete  interpenetration  by  the 
divine  guiding  and  moulding  presence.  Such  a  conception 
may  be  said  to  exist  to  some  extent  in  all  communities, 
inasmuch  as  the  supremacy  and  control  of  the  supernatural 
powers  is  everywhere  recognized ;  but  among  no  other  peo- 
ple has  the  idea  been  so  definitely  grasped  as  among  the 
Jews.  Elsewhere  the  main  stress  has  been  laid  on  con- 
quest, government,  literature,  philosophy,  or  art ;  and  the 
theocratic  idea,  the  feeling  of  the  direct  and  complete  de- 
pendence of  the  community  on  God,  when  it  has  been  recog- 
nized, has  played  only  a  secondary  role.  It  is  only  in  a  few 
cases  that  the  attempt  to  embody  it  in  an  historical  form 
has  been  at  all  successful ;  and  among  these  it  is  to  the 
Hebrew  theocracy  that  the  first  rank,  in  precision  and  prac- 
tical efficiency,  must  be  assigned.^ 

1  Next  to  tlie  .Jewish,  the  most  successful  theocratic  system  was  that  of 
Islam,  especially  under  Mohammed  and  the  Medina  califs,  less  under  the 
first  century  of  the  Bagdad  califate.  Still  less  definite  were  the  attempts  at 
theocratic  organization  under  the  Buddhist  Asoka  (third  century  b.  c. )  and 
the  Sassanian  Zoroastrians  (from  third  to  seventh  century  a.  d.).  Traces  of 
the  conception  are  recognizable  in  ancient  P^gypt,  in  modern  China,  and  in 
a  peculiar  form  in  the  first  century  of  the  New  England  colonies.     It  is  note- 


304  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

The  Jewish  theocratic  idea  has  a  noteworthy  history  ex- 
tending over  many  centuries.  Beginning  with  a  merely 
external  political  form,  it  grew  finally,  under  Christian  in- 
fluence, into  a  predominantly  moral-spiritual  system,  in 
which  comparatively  little  of  the  external  remained.  It  is 
this  development  which  we  are  called  on  to  trace.  AVe  are 
concerned  not  so  much  to  mark  all  the  differences  of  de- 
tail of  the  Jewish  ideas  on  the  subject  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment and  the  New  Testament  as  to  note  the  increasing 
control  which  was  obtained  by  the  higher  elements  of  the 
religious  life.^ 

Four  stadia  may  be  recognized  in  the  history  of  the  Jewish - 
Christian  theocratic  idea  :  the  early  unconscious  period  of 
mere  non-ethical  nationalism,  the  prophetic  or  ethical  na- 
tionalism, the  apocalyptic  conception  of  special  divine  ex- 
ternal interposition,  and  the  higher  New  Testament  thought 
in  which  the  ethical-spiritual  predominates. 

Nothing  hi  the  history  of  the  Jews  is  more  remarkable 
than  the  hope  which  they  continued  for  a  long  period  to 
cherish  of  a  definite  and  brilliant  future.  Other  peoples 
have  been  patriotic,  have  shown  themselves  capable  of  he- 
roic effort  for  freedom  and  of  resistance  to  foreign  pressure. 
The  Persian  kingdom  of  to-day  is  a  striking  example  of  the 
maintenance  of  national  life  through  many  centuries  of  de- 
pression and  subjugation.  Persia  has  lived  through  the  dom- 
ination of  the  Parthians  and  of  the  Arabians,  and  grown 
finally  into  an  organization  which,  with  modifications  that 
have  come  in  through  the  centuries,  may  be  regarded  as  an 

wortliy  tliat  we  find  little  or  no  trace  of  a  tlioocracy  in  any  ancient  Semitic 
people  except  the  Jew,s,  tiiough  this  may  lie  due  in  part  to  tlie  scantiness 
of  our  information. 

1  It  does  not  belong  to  our  subject  to  follow  the  history  below  the  New 
Testament,  hut  it  may  be  noted  that  the  same  sort  of  moral  spiritual  growth 
has  gone  on  witliin  the  bounds  of  .Tiidaism.  There  is  a  large  section  of  mod- 
ern Jews  which  retains  only  tlie  ethical-spiritual  side  of  the  Messianic  idea. 


THE   KINGDOM  OF   GOD.  305 

historical  continuation  of  the  Achtemenian  times.  History 
offers  other,  though  less  striking,  examples.  But  the  Jewish 
experience  differs  from  all  these.  It  is  not  merely  patriot- 
ism ;  it  is  the  patriotic  imagination  quickened  and  organized 
by  religious  feeling  ;  it  is  the  national  sentiment  exalted  into 
glowing  fervor  and  unswerving  confidence  ;  it  is  the  com- 
pletest  organization  that  the  world  has  ever  seen  of  patriotic- 
religious  hope. 

The  origin  of  this  hope  may  be  traced,  as  far  as  such 
things  are  traceable,  to  certain  elements  of  the  Hebrew  char- 
acter and  development.  In  tbe  first  place,  we  liave  to  re- 
cognize in  the  Jews  an  extraordinary  power  of  persistence. 
Their  whole  history  shows  an  uncommonly  great  develop- 
ment of  individuality,  ability  to  maintain  their  own  person- 
ality against  opposing  influences,  a  toughness  of  fibre,  tlie 
like  of  which  may  be  seen  in  some  other  nations,  but  per- 
haps nowhere  else  so  marked  as  in  the  Jews,  —  at  least,  no 
other  people  has  had  such  oj^portunity  to  show  it.  Their 
experience  during  the  Middle  Age  in  Europe  is  sufficient  to 
prove  their  enormous  power  of  self-maintenance.  Their  sur- 
vival is  no  doubt  to  be  attributed  to  a  combination  of  cir- 
cumstances ;  but  wdiatever  else  there  may  have  been,  it  is 
evident  that  no  small  part  of  the  result  is  due  to  their 
innate  resisting  and  persisting  power. 

In  close  connection  with  this  quality  is  the  religious  side 
of  their  history.  As  far  back  as  we  can  trace  them,  their 
attitude  toward  the  national  deity  was  j)eculiar,  —  a  very 
pronounced  and  controlling  theological  particularism.  The 
later  Babylonians  had  a  decided  preference  for  Marduk  above 
other  gods  ;  the  Moabites  seem  to  have  been  devoted  chiefly 
to  Kemosh  ;  but  the  Israelites,  with  still  greater  devotion, 
through  all  their  long  dallyings  with  other  deities,  clung  to 
their  ow^n  Yahwe,  whose  sole  worship  was  made  by  the 
prophets  (that  is  to  say,  by  the  controlling  intellect  of  the 


306  THE    KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

nation)  the  central  point  of  religion  and  politics.  At  the 
same  time,  the  remarkable  religious  organizing  power  of  the 
people  showed  itself ;  a  series  of  religious  institutions,  des- 
tined ultimately  to  transform  the  nation  into  an  ecclesi- 
astical organization,  began  before  the  exile.  Religious  ideas 
were  worked  up  with  fulness  and  roundness.  The  rela- 
tion of  the  people  to  their  god  took  very  definite  shape : 
he  belonged  to  them,  and  they  to  him  ;  they  were  under 
obligation  to  honor  and  serve  him  alone,  and  he  under 
corresponding  obligation  to  help  them  against  all  their  en- 
emies. These  ideas  crystallized  in  the  prophetic  thought  into 
a  conception  of  a  covenant  between  God  and  the  people  ;  a 
covenant  was  the  necessary  expression  of  alliance.  It  was 
held  that  Yahwe  had  chosen  Israel  from  among  all  nations 
in  the  earth,  and  had  promised  it  his  continued  blesshig  on 
the  condition  on  its  part  of  obedience  and  loyalty 

This  is  only  the  developed  form  of  a  very  early  set  of 
ideas,  and  one  not  peculiar  to  the  Hebrews.  A  clan,  or  tribe, 
at  a  certain  stage  of  growth,  enters  into  a  specially  close 
relation  with  a  deity  who  is  its  kinsman  and  fast  friend, 
its  ally  and  patron,  and  entitled  to  its  special  devotion  ;  at 
a  later  stage  such  a  deity  may  become  a  national  god.  With 
such  an  origin  agree  the  first  details  we  have  of  the  relation 
between  Yahwe  and  the  Israelitish  fribes.^  In  the  period 
of  the  Judges  he  is  to  Israel  what  Kemosh  is  to  Animon 
(Judg.  xi.  24).  The  relation  is  here  one  of  extornnl  worship 
and   protection,  and   so  remains    substantially  down  to  the 


1  Of  tlie  origin  and  meaning  of  the  name  "  Yaliwe,"  and  of  the  begin- 
nings of  the  Yahwe-cnlt  among  the  Hebrews,  we  have  no  definite  informa- 
timi.  One  tradition  (Ex.  vi.  S)  states  that  it  was  nnknown  till  after  Jacob's 
time,  and  a])parently  asc'ri))es  its  introdnction  to  Moses,  while  another  (Gen. 
iv.  26)  refers  it  to  the  earliest  times  of  the  human  race  For  discussions  of 
the  name  see  Friedrich  Delitzsdi,  "Wo  lag  das  Paradies  ?  "  Leipzig,  1881, 
and  S.  K.  Driver,  in  "  Studia  Riblica,"  Oxford,  188.5;  and  on  the  origin  of 
the  cult,  the  histories  of  Kuencn,  AVellliansen,  Griitz,  Stade,  and  Eenan. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  307 

time  of  Ahab  and  Jehosliaphat  (early  part  of  the  ninth  cen- 
tury B.  c),  whose  attitude  toward  Yahwe  is  about  the  same 
as  that  of  the  Moabite  king  Mesha  toward  Kemosh.^  The 
idea  of  an  agreement  or  covenant  between  deity  and  people 
is  primitive.  The  peculiarity  of  Israel  is  that,  in  accordance 
with  its  general  power  of  religious  organization,  it  so  clearly 
defined  and  expressed  the  idea,  and  wove  into  it  its  high- 
est religious  thought,  —  absolute  justice  in  God,  spirituality 
in  man.  This  highly  developed  idea  appears  already  in  the 
earliest  of  the  writing  prophets  (Amos  iii.  ix.). 

Out  of  this  conception  of  the  covenant  flows  all  the  suc- 
ceeding history.  The  nation  continued  its  particularistic 
development ;  it  elaborated  more  and  more  its  ceremonial 
law ;  it  attempted  to  isolate  itself.  The  thicker  its  misfor- 
tunes, the  more  it  wrapped  itself  up  in  its  own  ideals.  All 
its  experiences  were  interpreted  in  the  light  of  the  covenant : 
prosperity  was  regarded  as  a  fulfilment  of  the  divine  prom- 
ise ;  adversity  was  accepted  as  a  chastisement  for  unfaith- 
fulness and  a  preparation  for  coming  blessing.  Whatever 
the  situation,  the  leading  religious  thinkers  explained  it  in 
the  interests  of  the  nation.  The  national  imagination,  em- 
bodied in  prophets  and  seers,  looked  to  the  near  future  for 
the  realization  of  boundless  hopes,  and  most  of  all  in  times 
of  suffering.  The  picture  of  the  future  was  based  upon  the 
present,  and  changed  from  age  to  age  with  the  changing  cir- 
cumstances of  the  nation.  The  Messianic  history  is  a  series 
of  shifting  views.  The  essential  thing  was  the  enlivening, 
stimulating  hope ;  the  historical  shape  which  it  assumed  was 
an  accident  of  the  times. 

The  history  of  the  national  hope  is  the  history  of  the 
national  thought ;  whatever  elements  entered  into  the  one 
showed   themselves   in  the  other.     So  long   as   the   nation 

^  See  the  inscription  of  the  Moabite  Stone  in  Ginsburg's  edition,  London, 
1871,  or  "  The  Records  of  the  Past,"  vol.  xi.,  or  Stade's  "  Geschichte,"  I.  534. 


308  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

preserved  its  political  independence  and  its  comparative  iso- 
lation in  the  midst  of  small  nationalities,  its  conception  of 
the  future  was  similarly  restricted  ;  when  it  became  a  part 
of  great  world-empires  (Persia,  Greece,  and  Rome)  and  en- 
tered into  closer  association  with  other  peoples,  the  picture 
assumed  a  more  cosmopolitan  shape.  At  the  same  time  the 
cschatology  became  more  definite  ;  the  doctrines  of  immor- 
tality and  resurrection  took  shape  and  naturally  colored  the 
view  of  the  future.  The  modifications  in  the  ethical  ideas 
of  the  nation  necessarily  showed  themselves  in  the  forms  of 
the  Messianic  hope  ;  the  individual  assumed  greater  promi- 
nence in  accordance  with  the  general  ethical  development ; 
the  idea  of  self-culture  and  self-denial  became  more  impor- 
tant ;  the  general  tendency,  especially  among  the  nobler 
minds,  was  to  exalt  and  make  prominent  the  element  of  eth- 
ical spirituality.  With  all  these  modifications,  however,  the 
original,  central  idea  remained  unchanged,  —  the  righteous 
nation  was  to  be  delivered  from  enemies  and  ushered  into 
an  era  of  prosperity.  A  brief  review  of  the  portraiture  of 
the  national  future,  beginning  with  the  pre-prophetic  period 
and  coming  down  through  the  prophets  and  the  apocalyptic 
books  into  the  Jewish  and  the  Christian  literature  of  the  first 
century,  will  exhibit  both  the  local  coloring  of  the  thought 
and  the  growth  of  the  ethical  element. 

1.  We  find  no  outlook  into  the  future  before  the  eighth 
century.  Up  to  that  time  the  nation  was  engaged  in  tlie 
ordinary  struggle  for  existence;  its  thought  centred  on  the 
present.  It  had  not  come  to  political  or  moral  self-con- 
sciousness. Gideon,  Jephtha,  Samuel,  David,  and  Solomon 
represent  only  the  ordinary  national  ambition.  There  was 
a  certain  religious  unity  (as  in  all  ancient  and  modern  na- 
tions), and  there  was  a  certain  general  hope  in  Go.l,  vague, 
non-ethical,  not  yet  advanced  to  the  rank  of  an  article  of 
the  national  faith.     As  far  as  we  can  judge  from  the  docu- 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  309 

ments,  no  prophetic  voice  had,  as  late  as  the  tenth  century, 
announced  a  definite  relation  between  righteousness  and 
prosperity.^  Time  naturally  brought  about  a  change  in  the 
nation's  inner  life  ;  political  complications  and  reverses 
forced  it  to  think  of  its  future,  and  the  development  of 
the  moral  consciousness  introduced  an  ethical  element  into 
its  self-analysis.  This  progress  had  doubtless  been  going 
on  in  an  unconscious  way  during  the  ninth  century  (Elijah 
and  Elisha) ;  but  it  did  not  take  shape  until  the  eighth 
century,  when  the  Syrian  and  Assyrian  powers  began  to 
be  oppressive,  and  in  the  Xorthern  kingdom  the  shadow 
of  the  final  catastrophe  became  visible  to  the  more  keen- 
sighted  of  the  religious  statesmen.  The  suffering  of  the 
nation,  said  the  prophets,  was  a  chastisement  from  God 
for  the  national  sin  ;  but  there  should  follow  political  and 
moral  regeneration,  the  maintenance  of  the  existing  form 
of  government  with  the  triumph  of  the  religion  of  Israel. 
2.  The  pre-exilian  prophets  looked  to  the  defeat  or  sub- 
jugation of  surrounding  nations,  including  the  Assyrians, 
and  the  perpetuity  of  the  Davidic  dynasty.  For  their  sins, 
said  Amos  (c.  B.  c.  770),  Israel  should  be  carried  into  cap- 
tivity beyond  Damascus,  the  land  should  tremble,  the  people 
should  be  sifted  among  all  the  nations,  yet  not  the  least 
grain  should  fall  to  the  earth,  the  sinners  of  the  nation 
should  die  by  the  sword  ^  (Am  v.  27;  vi.  14;  viii.  8  ;  ix.  9). 
Hosea  (c.  b.  c.  750-730)  describes  the  long-suffering,  faithful 
love  of  Yahwe  :  he  would  betroth  the  nation  to  himself  in 


1  Tlie  books  of  Samuel  and  Kin^s  are  in  many  passages,  notably  in  the 
portraitures  of  Samuel,  David,  and  Solomon,  colored  by  Deuteronomic  ideas ; 
examples  are  1  Sam.  xv.,  2  Sam.  xii ,  1  K.  viii. 

-  The  genuineness  of  the  references  in  Amos  and  Hosea  to  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Davidic  dynasty  may  be  doubted.  Amos  ix.  11-15  appears  to 
be  colored  by  experience  of  captivity,  and  in  Hos  iii  5  the  words  "  David 
their  king"  seem  out  of  place,  since  the  prophet  is  there  concerned  with 
Israel  alone. 


310  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD 

righteousness  and  faithfulness  ;  the  earth  should  yield  its 
increase.  Israel,  after  abiding  many  days  without  political 
and  religious  organization.,  should  seek  Yahwe,  their  God ; 
strange  gods  should  be  put  away;  the  divine  anger  should 
be  turned  hito  love  ;  the  beauty  of  Israel  should  be  as  the 
olive-tree,  and  his  fragrance  as  Lebanon  (Hos.  ii.,  iii.,  xiv.  1-7). 
A  deeper  and  sadder  conception  of  the  national  life  appears 
in  Isaiah  (b.  c.  740-700),  who  lived  in  the  midst  of  the 
Assyrian  invasions  and  the  fall  of  the  Northern  kingdom  : 
the  gross  conscience  of  the  people  should  not  respond  to  his 
appeal ;  the  land  should  be  wasted,  but  a  remnant  should 
be  left,  sacred  to  the  God  of  Israel,  governed  in  righteous- 
ness by  a  Davidic  king,  when  the  Assyrian  should  have  been 
driven  away  (vi.  9-13 ;  x.  20,  24-27).  Here  we  have  merely 
an  ethical-religious  organization  of  the  nation,  on  the  old 
political  lines,  but  with  a  thorough-going  demand  for  right- 
eousness. Isaiah's  younger  contemporary,  Micah,  has  left 
us  no  word  of  hope,  but  only  a  prediction  of  punishment 
(i.-iiL).!  Nahum  (c.  b.  c.  634)  utters  only  an  exulting  cry 
over  the  approaching  fall  of  Nineveh  ;  the  destruction  of 
the  great  world-empire  of  Assyria  was  doubtless  then  a  part 
of  the  national  hope.  Zephaniah,  somewhat  later,  sees  in 
the  coming  "  day  of  Yahwe  "  not  only  the  desolation  of  Nin- 
eveh, but  also  the  chastisement  of  Jerusalem  (i.  ii.).^  In 
Habakkuk  (c.  b.  c.  605),  who  looked  to  the  punishment  of 
the  Chaldeans,  there  is  the  larger  expectation  (Hab  ii.  14) 
that  the  whole  earth  shall  be  forced  to  recognize  the  glory 
which  belongs  to  the  God  of  Israel  by  virtue  both  of  his 
moral  perfection  and  of  the  power  which  he  manifests  in 

1  The  remainder  of  the  hook  of  Mieah  (perhaps  intended  to  supplement 
the  prophet's  meagre  utterances)  is  later  than  the  eighth  century,  and  will 
he  referred  to  helow.  Chapt.  vi.  may  belong  to  the  seventh  century,  hut  con- 
tains no  outlook  into  the  future 

'^  Chapt.  iii.  differs  in  tone  from  the  preceding,  appearing  to  have  in  view 
a  different  condition  of  things  ;  its  similarity  to  Mic.  iv.  G-1.3  is  obvious. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  311 

the  deliverance  and  maintenance  of  his  people.  Jeremiah's 
attitude  toward  the  Chaldeans  is  different  from  that  of  Hab- 
akkuk  ;  he  is  decidedly  friendly  to  Nebuchadnezzar,^  whom 
he  regards  as  God's  instrument  for  chastising  recreant  Israel. 
The  nation  shall  go  into  captivity  for  its  sins,  but  shall  be 
restored  to  its  own  land  and  live  prosperously  under  the 
righteous  rule  of  its  own  princes,  with  the  maintenance  of 
the  complete  national  organization  (Jer.  xxv.  8-11;  xxx.  ; 
xxxi.  1-30) ;  and  God,  says  some  prophet  of  this  time,  will 
make  a  new  covenant  with  his  people,  writing  his  law  in 
their  hearts,  forgiving  their  sins,  and  establishing  them  in 
moral  purity  (Jer.  xxxi.  31-34)  ^  Ezekiel,  who  was  in  Baby- 
lonia, and  showed  no  less  kindly  feeling  toward  Nebuchad- 
nezzar and  his  people  than  Jeremiah,  looks  likewise  to  a 
political  restoration  in  Canaan,  a  new  spirit  of  hearty  obe- 
dience, a  resuscitation  and  moral  regeneration  of  the  people, 
the  final  victory  to  be  preceded  by  a  combined  attack  of  cer- 
tain Northern  peoples  on  Israel ;  and  he  gives  in  the  form  of 
a  vision  a  complete  political-religious  constitution  for  the  re- 
stored nation  (Ezek.  xxxvi.-xlviii.).  The  expectation  of  the 
exilian  Isaiah  is  substantially  the  same,  only  he  idealizes 
Israel  into  a  divinely  appointed  instrument  for  the  enlight- 
enment of  all  the  nations.  The  restoration  to  Canaan  was 
to  be  marked  by  a  regeneration  of  all  things,  the  creation  of 
new  heavens  and  a  new  earth  wherein  Jerusalem  was  to  be 
the  centre  of  strength  and  hope  and  joy,  and  Israel  should 
remain  forever  holy  and  blessed  in  the  siglit  of  God  (Isa. 
Ix-lxvi,  especially  Ixv.  17-25,  Ixvi.  19-24).     Here  probably 

1  The  prophet's  friendliiieps  toward  the  Chalilean  king  is  so  marked  and 
persistent  that  passages  ascribed  to  him  which  breathe  a  different  tone  (such 
as  xxv.  12,  1.,  li.)  may  be  set  down  as  coming  from  another  hand. 

2  It  seems  doubtful  whether  xxxi.  31-40  belongs  to  Jeremiah  ;  or  rather, 
the  style  and  the  attitude  toward  the  ritual  make  it  probable  that  the  pas- 
sage is  from  another  hand  ;  but  it  in  any  case  belongs  to  tlie  perioil  of  Deuter- 
onomy, Jeremiah,  and  Ezekiel,  and  illustrates  the  thought  of  the  time. 


312  THE   KINGDOM   OF    GOD. 

belongs  Mic.  vii.,  wiiere  the  prophet  looks  to  deliverance 
from  exile  and  foi^eign  oppression,  and  the  exaltation  of  the 
nation,  basing  his  hope  on  the  incomparable  pardoning 
mercy  of  Yahwe.  To  the  exilian  or  a  somewhat  later 
period  we  may  also  perhaps  refer  Deut.  xxviii-xxx.,  1 
Kings  viii ,  passages  in  which  the  perpetuity  of  the  national 
life  is  anticipated,  but  conditioned  on  obedience  to  the 
divine  law. 

3.  The  exile  exalted  the  hopes  of  those  Israelites  who 
cherished  most  ardently  the  national  feeling.  After  this  ter- 
rible blow,  the  God  of  Israel,  they  felt  sure,  would  raise  his 
people  to  an  unexampled  height  of  happiness,  of  which  the 
elements  were  political  independence  and  prosperity,  fidel- 
ity to  the  worship  of  Yahwe,  and  moral  uprightness  of  life. 
Whatever  was  necessary  to  secure  these  ends,  that  they 
believed  God  would  do.  AVhen  Cyrus,  in  accordance  with 
his  general  policy  of  restoring  the  exiled  peoples  in  baby- 
lonia to  their  homes,  gave  the  Jews  permission  to  return  to 
Canaan,  a  portion  of  the  Israelitish  colony  gave  themselves 
up  to  the  most  unbounded  joy  and  expectation, ^  the  ex- 
pression of  which  is  found  in  the  e.xilian  Isaiah.  This  was 
the  culmination  of  the  prophetic  hope,  which  on  the  polit- 
ical side  was  never  fulfilled,  though  it  was  a  true  instinct 
which  foresaw  the  triumph  of  Israelitish  religious  thought.^ 
The  little  band  of  patriots,  about  forty  thousand  in  all,^ 
returned  to  Canaan  and  found  little  or  nothing  that  the 

1  It  is  not  a  matter  of  course  that  all  the  real  patriots  returned  to  Pales- 
tine. Opinions  ])robabIy  differed  as  to  the  wisest  policy  ;  and  it  is  certain 
that  at  a  later  period  a  very  decided  national  feeiini^  sliowcd  itself  among 
the  Jews  who  remained  in  Babylonia. 

'^  It  was  about  the  same  time  (second  half  of  the  sixtli  century  is.  r.)  that 
the  foundations  were  laid  in  India,  Gi-eece,  and  Kome  for  three  otlicr  great 
movements  of  human  progress 

"  The  number  given  in  Neh.  vii,  66  (42,360)  is  described  as  that  of  the 
"men"  (verse  7),  according  to  which  the  whole  population  would  have  been 
ab(mt  200,000  ;  Imt  the  number  of  servants  of  both  sexes  (T,.*?.'}?)  and  of  asses 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  313 

great  exilian  prophet  had  predicted.  Steady  toil  was  neces- 
sary to  gain  their  daily  bread,  and  it  was  with  great  diffi- 
culty that  they  found  means  to  rebuild  the  temple.  It 
was  to  this  last  end  that  the  prophets  Haggai  and  Zecha- 
riah  (Zech.  i.-viii.)  devoted  themselves ;  yet  they  also,  in  all 
the  pressure  of  the  time,  cast  a  glance  into  the  future. 
Zechariah  predicted  a  righteous,  political  success,  and  Hag- 
gai the  exaltation  of  the  temple;  the  desirable  things  of  all 
nations  should  come  and  fill  the  new  house  with  glory  (Zech. 
viii.  1-15  ;  Hag.  ii.  6-9).  Half  a  century  passed  ;  Palestine 
was  a  Persian  province,  and  there  was  no  prospect  of  politi- 
cal independence.  The  ritual-religious  organization  had  been 
steadily  growing,  and  the  hope  of  the  best  men  lay  in  obe- 
dience to  the  Law.  The  prophet  Malachi  (c.  B.  c.  460)  pre- 
dicted the  appearance  of  a  messenger  of  God,  who  should 
purify  the  Levites,  separate  the  evil  element  of  the  nation 
from  the  good,  and  unite  the  hearts  of  the  people  in  the  fear 
of  Yahwe  ;  after  him  should  come  the  great  and  terrible  day 
of  Yahwe,  the  divine  intervention  which  was  to  strike  dis- 
may into  the  souls  of  the  evil-doers,  and  establish  Israel  in 
ethical  and  Levitical  uprightness  (Mai.  iii.  iv.). 

Other  ideas,  however,  than  the  predominantly  legal-ritual 
existed  in  the  fifth  century,  if  we  may  here  place  the  pro- 
phetic sections,  Isa.  ii.  2-4  (nearly  the  same  in  Mic.  iv.  1-5), 
xix.  The  first  of  these  stands  out  of  connection  in  its  pres- 
ent position,  and  has  a  quiet  tone  wholly  different  from  the 
vigorous,  intense  polemic  of  Isaiah.  It  has  a  more  defined 
conception  of  law  than  Isa.  Ixi.  (which  it  in  other  respects 
strongly  resembles),  and  less  ritualism  than  Zech.  xiv.  It 
is  a  definite  anticipation  of  the  universal  acceptance  of  the 
worship  of  Yahwe,  the  accompaniment  of  which  shall  be 

(6,720)  suggests  not  more  than  8,000  families,  or  a  total  population  of  40,000, 
and  this  number  agrees  with  the  feeble  condition  of  the  colony  as  described 
in  Ezra  and  Nehemiah. 


314  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

the  prevalence  of  universal  peace.  It  is  the  vision  of  the 
ethical-religious  triumph  of  Israel,  the  national  life  and  inde- 
pendence being  assumed,  but  not  emphasized. ^  There  is  a 
similar  universality  of  hope  in  Isa.  xix.  18-25,^  set  forth 
under  the  form  of  the  anticipated  religious  unity  of  Egypt, 
Assyria,  and  Israel,  all  of  whom  Yahwe,  it  is  said,  will 
regard  with  equal  affection.  Here  is  a  cosmopoHtan  spirit 
that  reminds  us  of  Ps.  Ixxxvii.  It  seems  to  have  been  born 
of  that  ethical-religious  largeness  of  view  that  came  into 
existence  after  the  breaking  up  of  the  national  life.  It  is 
the  older  conviction  of  national  permanence  illuminated  by 
a  distincter  moral-religious  ideal. 

4.  Prophecy  was  now  dying  out,  giving  place  to  tlie  orderly 
study  of  the  Law  as  the  national  guide  of  conduct.  More 
than  another  century  passed  before  a  new  pvoplietic  word 
was  heard  (or.  to  speak  more  precisely,  no  prophecy  of  this 
intervening  period  has  been  preserved).  Joel  and  the  Second 
Zechariah  (Zech.  ix.-xiv.)  seem  by  their  historical  references 
and  the  pronouncedly  legal-ritual  character  of  their  religious 
thought  to  belong  to  the  Greek  period.  Their  expectation  is 
the  same  as  that  of  the  earlier  prophets.  Joel  sees  the  hos- 
tile nations  assembled  and  judged,  while  Judah  and  Jeru- 
salem abide  in  their  own  land  forever,  free  from  tlie  presence 
of  strangers  and  secure  in  the  protection  of  Yahwe  (Joel  ii. 
28-iii.  21)  ;  Zechariah's  picture  includes  victory  over  Greece 
under  the  lead  of  a  righteous  king,  the  reconciliation  of  Jeru- 
salem and  the  rural  districts  (which  had  been  at  variance), 
the  overthrow  of  hostile  nations,  and  the  complete  triumph 

1  Verse  5  of  the  Micah-passage  (with  which  compare  Lsa.  ii.  5)  iutroduccs 
a  general  national  particularism  which  seems  to  he  at  variance  with  the  uni- 
versality of  verse  2,  and  may  he  an  addition  by  another  hand. 

2  Verse  18,  with  the  reading  "the  city  of  the  sun,"  was  cited  by  Jews  in 
support  of  the  proposal  of  Onias  to  build  his  temple  in  the  Heliopolitan 
nome ;  and  some  modern  critics  have  hence  been  inclined  to  refer  this  pas- 
sage to  that  period,  but  the  absence  of  a  distiuct  reference  to  a  temple  seems 
to  make  tliis  view  impmbable 


THE   KINGDOM   OF  GOD.  315 

of  the  religion  of  Yahwe,  so  that  all  the  families  of  the  earth 
should  go  up  to  Jerusalem  to  worship  (Zech.  ix.  9-17 ;  xii.- 
xiv.).  Zechariah's  ritualistic  conception  of  holiness  (xiv.  20, 
21)  marks  one  line  of  the  progress  of  the  national  thought : 
the  perfection  of  the  people  is  lielcl  to  he  inseparably  con- 
nected with  the  strict  maintenance  of  the  temple-service.  A 
somewhat  similar  view  of  the  future  is  given  in  the  little 
detached  section,  Isa.  iv.  2-6. 

The  occasional  mention  of  a  king  who  is  to  be  Yahwe's 
instrument  for  the  final  establishment  of  the  nation  does 
not  add  to  or  modify  the  essential  elements  of  the  pro- 
phetic thought.  The  king  is  an  all  but  necessary  part  of  the 
body  politic,  —  the  natural  head  of  the  nation  and  leader 
of  its  fortunes.  His  presence  at  the  final  catastrophe,  when 
the  great  divine  blessing  is  to  come,  is  assumed,  but  not 
spoken  of  in  the  pre-exilian  prophecies ;  ^  it  is  the  nation, 
as  the  chosen  of  Yahwe,  that  is  the  object  of  mterest.  This 
may  be  called  specially  the  period  of  national  solidarity. 
We  have  already  seen  that  an  era  of  more  defined  individ- 
ualism and  institutionalism  began  just  before  the  exile,  and 
the  blow  which  destroyed  for  the  time  being  the  political  and 
ritual  organization  aroused  a  keener  interest  in  the  offices  by 
which  it  was  represented.  Thus  Ezekiel,  when  tlie  fate  of 
Jerusalem  was  decided,  cheered  his  people  with  the  prom- 
ise of  the  perpetuity  of  the  Davidic  dynasty  (xxxiv.  23,  24 ; 
xxxvii.  24,  25)  as  well  as  of  the  Levitical  priesthood  (xliv. 

1  As  pre-exilian  may  be  regarded  Amos  (except  the  last  section),  Hosea 
(omitting  a  few  verses),  Isa.  i.,  ii.  6-22,  iii.,  iv.  1,  v.-x.  (except  ix.  6,  7,  and 
perhaps  several  of  the  preceding  verses),  xiv.  24-32,  xv.-xviii.,  xx.,  xxii. 
15-25,  xxviii.-xxxi.,  xxxvii.  21-35,  Mic.  i.-iii.,  vi.,  Nahiim,  Zeph.  i.,  ii.,  Hab- 
akkuk,  Jeremiah  (except  x.  1-16,  xxiii.  5-8,  xxxiii.  14-26,  l.-lii.,  and  per- 
iiaps  xlix),  Ezek.  i.-xxxii.  and  part  of  xxxiii.  (that  is,  the  ntterances  of  the 
prophet  up  to  the  time  when  news  came  of  the  fall  of  Jenasalem,  though 
all  his  prophecies  were  given  in  the  land  of  captivity).  The  omitted  parts 
suggest  an  exilian  or  post-exilian  origin  by  their  style,  historical  references, 
or  ritual  tone. 


316  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

15  ;  xlviii.  11,  35).  To  the  same  effect  are  Jer.  xxxiii.  14-26 
(cf.  xxiii.  5-S),  where  the  Davidic  prinse  is  called  a  "  right- 
eous scion,"  ^  and  2  Sam.  vii.,  where  it  is  declared  that  the 
throne  of  David  shall  be  established  forever.  A  more  par- 
ticular application  of  the  term  "scion"  is  made  just  after 
the  exile  by  Zechariah  (vi.  V2),  who  gives  this  title  to  his 
contemporary  the  Davidic  prince  Zerubbabel,  the  builder  of 
the  temple,  associating  him  in  a  sort  of  dual  government 
with  the  priest  Joshua.  It  seems  to  have  been  in  the  suc- 
ceeding period,  when  Palestine  was  merely  a  province  of  the 
Persian  empire,  that  the  longing  for  deliverance  and  na- 
tional organized  and  independent  life  was  embodied  in  the 
portraiture  of  an  ideal  king.  So  long  as  the  regular  govern- 
ment existed,  the  king  was  taken  for  granted.  The  time  of 
political  dissolution  recalled  the  glories  of  David  and  his  suc- 
cessors. A  people  without  a  head  thought  of  a  royal  leader 
as  the  natural  saviour.  Such  appears  to  be  the  feeling  that 
prompted  the  utterance  of  Mic.  v.  2-6  {ffeb.  1-5)  :  Jacob  is 
scattered  among  the  nations  (vs.  7,  8),  and  the  seer  hopes  for 
a  military  deliverer  in  the  person  of  a  scion  of  the  ancient 
royal  house  of  Bethlehem.^  Elsewhere  we  find  the  ethical 
element  predominating  in  the  description  of  the  king.  The 
main  function  of  the  Davidic  scion  of  Isa.  xi.  1-9  is  wise 
and  just  care  for  the  interests  of  the  "poor"  and  "meek" 
of  the  land.  These  are  the  epithets  by  which  the  book  of 
Psalms  everywhere  designates  the  Israelites  who,  true  to  the 
law  of  their  God,  were  oppressed  by  foreign  potentates  (Per- 
sian or  Greek)  or  by  apostate  or  unscrupulous  countrymen. 
The  seer  embodies  his  idea  of   perfect  national    ha])piness 

1  The  expression  "scion"  (or  "sprout")  i.s  used  in  Isa.  iv.  2,  apparently 
of  the  nation,  or  rather  of  the  riphteons  remnant  as  a  branch  of  the  original 
stock.  The  close  relation  between  people  ami  kinir  makes  it  equally  appli- 
cable to  both. 

2  The  Tifrris-Enphrates  recion  is  here  called  by  the  old  name  "  Assyria." 
as  in  the  post-exilian  Zech.  x.  11. 


THE   KINGDOM  OF   GOD.  317 

in  the  statement  that  there  shall  be  no  hurtful  power  in 
the  world,  and  he  connects  this  blessed  condition  of  things 
(apparently  following  Hab.  ii.  14)  with  the  universal  recog- 
nition of  tlie  religion  of  Yah  we.  We  have  here  almost  the 
germ  of  an  apocalypse,  and,  as  in  the  pre-exilian  predic- 
tions, it  is  the  welfare  of  the  nation  which  the  prophet  has 
in  mind;  the  prince  exists  for  Israel.  The  author  of  Isa. 
xxxii.  1-8  describes  the  future  ethically  constituted  Israel- 
itish  community,  of  which  king  and  princes  are  only  a  natu- 
ral incident.  A  fuller  governmental  description,  like  that 
in  Isa.  xi.,  is  given  in  Isa.  ix.  6,  7  {Heh.  v.  6).  The  preceding 
verses  speak  of  a  great  national  affliction  to  be  followed 
by  a  glorious  victory  like  that  of  Gideon  over  Midian.  The 
national  saviour  is  a  Davidic  king,  whose  reign  is  to  be 
characterized  by  justice  and  peace,  and  whose  dynasty  is 
to  continue  forever.  On  this  glorious  deliverer  the  seer  be- 
stows the  most  exalted  epithets.  He  represents  the  pres- 
ence and  power  of  Yahwe  in  the  midst  of  the  nation  (like 
the  child  Immanuel,  "  God  is  with  us,"  of  Isa.  vii.  14),  and, 
as  Israel  (Hos.  xi.  1)  and  the  king  of  Israel  (2  Sam.  vii.  14; 
Ps.  ii.  7)  are  called  "  son  of  Yahwe,"  so  he  receives  as  sur- 
names titles  which  express  the  divine  presence.  He  is  won- 
derful (or  divhiely  mysterious),  like  the  angel  of  Judg.  xiii. 
18,  wise  in  counsel,  like  the  king  in  Isa.  xi.  2,  a  hero,  like 
the  king  in  Ps.  xlv.  3  {Hch.  4),  everlasting  father  or  head  of 
a  perpetual  dynasty,  prince  of  peace.^    Finally,  we  have  a 

1  The  expression  el  (jihbor,  commonly  rendered  "  mighty  God,"  is  difficult ; 
it  occurs  naturally  of  Yahwe  in  Isa.  x.  21,  but  seems  inapplicable  to  a  man. 
Some  attach  el  to  the  preceding  word,  and  render  "  counsellor  of  God,"  which 
is  ])ossible,  but  not  natural ;  and  there  is  the  same  objection  to  "  counsellor  of 
tlie  mighty  God."  Gibbor  would  then  stand  separate  in  the  sense  of  "  hero," 
as  in  Ts.  xlv.  3  (4).  Some  take  el  as  adjective,  meaning  "miglity;"  but  we 
should  then  expect  the  reverse  order,  gibbor  el.  No  satisfactory  emendation 
of  the  text  has  been  suggested.  The  word  el  can  be  employed  of  men,  accord- 
ing to  Old  Testament  usage,  only  in  the  sense  of  "  mighty."  The  text  may 
originally  have  expressed  some  relation  of  the  king  to  the  "  mighty  God." 


318  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

simple  picture  of  a  peaceful  monarch  in  Zech.  ix.  9  ;  but  it 
appears  from  verse  13  that  peace  is  to  be  gained  by  a  vic- 
tory over  Greere.  In  this  prophetic  anticipation  (the  latest 
of  those  that  deal  with  the  re-establishment  of  the  kingly 
government)  the  hope  is  the  same  as  in  the  others,  —  na- 
tional prosperity,  secured  by  divine  aid  and  conditioned  on 
obedience  to  divine  law. 

This  prophetic-patriotic  hope,  ennobled  by  the  demand  for 
righteousness,  may  be  traced  far  down  in  the  succeeding 
literature  :  in  Ecclesiasticus  (xxxvi.  1-17  ;  xxxvii.  25  ;  xlvii. 
11;  1.  23,  24),  Wisdom  of  Solomon  (iii.  8;  v.  1),  P.aruch 
(ii.  27-35  ;  iv.  3G  ;  v.  5-9),  Tobit  (xiii.  12-18  ;  xiv.  7),  1  Mac- 
cabees (ii.  57),  2  Maccabees  (ii.  18  ;  xiv.  15),  Psalms  of  Solo- 
mon. In  the  prophetic  scheme  of  the  future  the  only  definite 
trait  is  the  establishment  of  the  nation  in  peace  and  pros- 
perity in  its  own  land.  The  hope  is  distinctively  national ; 
Israel  is  the  centre,  the  sole  object  of  the  divine  care.  Other 
nations  are  subordinated  to  the  chosen  people,  and  their 
future  is  variously  described,  according  to  the  point  of  view 
and  feeling  of  the  writer.  In  the  earlier  prophecies  those 
who  are  hostile  arc  to  be  destroyed  or  severely  punished  ; 
at  a  later  time  (especially  in  the  Second  Isaiah  and  the 
Second  Zcchariab),  they  are  represented  as  attaching  them- 
selves to  the  religion  of  Israel.  Their  happiness  is  condi- 
tioned on  their  submission  ;  they  are  always  aliens,  and  such 
blessings  as  they  receive  come  through  the  intermediation' 
of  Israel.  The  oliJL^ct  of  Clod's  intervention  is  his  own  glory 
and  the  exaltation  of  his  own  people.  But  along  with  this 
particularistic  national  feeling  there  is  the  moral  earnestness 
which  demanded  righteousness  as  a  necessary  element  of  the 
national  good.  If  this  righteousness  was  in  part  ceremonial 
and  dogmatic,  it  also  included  ethical  perfectness  according 
to  the  best  standards  of  the  time  ;  and  this  redeems  the  pro- 
phetic hope  from  the  imputation  of  mere  national  narrow- 


THE   KIXGDOM   OF   GOD.  319 

ness ;  this  lifted  the  national  consciousness  up  to  a  noble 
ideal,  and  gave  it  universal  significance  for  men.  The  proph- 
ets did  not  attempt  to  fix  the  details  of  the  great  deliver- 
ance ;  theirs  was  a  free,  spontaneous,  national  feeling.  They 
speak  from  time  to  time  of  some  individual  deliverer ;  but 
it  is  an  ideal  king,  vaguely  expected  in  the  near  future.  No 
one  actual  personage  stands  out  with  controlling  prominence. 
Their  picture  concerns  this  world  only.  The  judgment  of 
God  is  temporal ;  the  doctrine  of  immortality  had  not  been 
established  in  the  national  consciousness. 

5.  The  Greek  oppression  (beginning  about  200  B.  c.)  in- 
troduced important  changes,  political  and  religious.  The 
national  sense  of  suffering  became  distincter  than  ever  be- 
fore. The  iron  entered  into  the  soul  of  the  people  ;  the 
hand  of  the  stranger  weighed  heavily  on  their  most  sacred 
rights  and  sentiments.  The  fulfilment  of  the  divine  prom- 
ises seemed  long  delayed  ;  an  intense  desire  of  deliverance 
took  possession  of  the  Jews.  From  the  time  that  they  had 
fallen  under  Greek  control  they  had  been  learning  more  of 
the  hi.story  of  the  world,  and  had  gained  the  idea  of  the 
succession  of  empires.  Their  thought  had  passed  beyond 
this  life  ;  in  place  of  the  old  Semitic  conception  of  Sheol, 
the  gloomy  abode  of  life-in-death,  had  come  the  hope  of 
immortality.  Scribes  and  lawyers  began  to  devote  them- 
selves to  a  study  of  the  "^sacred  books,  to  formulate  their 
doctrines,  to  search  them  for  indications  of  the  future.  Out 
of  all  this  material  grew  up  a  new  literature,  different  in 
tone  from  the  old  prophetic  writing,  called  forth  by  the 
needs  of  the  times  and  ex-pressing  the  current  feeling  ;  the 
prophet  was  replaced  by  the  apocalyptic  seer. 

The  first  apocalyptic  work  produced  by  the  Maccabean 
struggle  was  the  book  of  Dardel,  the  only  book  of  this  class 
which  gained  entrance  into  the  Canon.  It  was  composed 
in  the  midst  of   the  stirring   career  of  Judas  Maccabseus 


320  THE   KINGDOM  OF   GOD. 

Antioclius  Epiphanes,  the  mighty  successor  of  Alexander 
the  Great,  aud  the  representative  to  the  Jews  of  the  Greek 
world-kingdom,  had  attempted  to  crush  the  religi(jus  liber- 
ties of  the  people.  The  little  band  of  the  faithful,  led  by 
the  heroic  Judas,  had  withstood  his  efforts,  defeated  his 
armies,  and  captured  and  cleansed  Jerusalem  and  the  tem- 
ple. It  seemed  to  some  pious  souls  that  this  was  God's 
time  for  final  intervention  for  his  people.  Our  author,  in 
the  form  of  visions  ascribed  to  the  seer  Daniel,  supposed 
to  be  living  in  Babylon  during  the  whole  of  the  captivity, 
describes  the  fortunes  of  four  empires,  —  Babylon,  Media, 
Persia,  and  Greece.  That  this  is  the  ground  over  which  he 
goes  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  his  four  visions,  chapters 
vii.  (with  which  that  of  Nebuchadnezzar  in  chapter  ii.  is 
identical),  viii ,  ix.,  and  xi.,  xii.,give  the  same  history,  and  the 
teinninus  ad  quern  is  stated  in  chapter  viii.  to  be  the  reign 
of  one  of  the  successors  of  Alexander,  who  can  be  no  other 
than  Antioclius.  The  picture  of  the  future  is  of  the  most 
general  character ;  it  includes  only  the  triumph  of  Israel 
and  the  establisliment  of  God's  everlasting  kingdom.  The 
personage  described  in  vii.  13  as  "like  a  son  of  man"  is 
explained  in  verse  27  to  represent  the  Jewish  people,  or 
more  particularly  the  pious  kernel  of  the  nation,  the  saints 
of  the  ]\Iost  High.  The  final  victory  is  to  be  preceded  by 
a  time  of  great  tribulation  (cf.  Ezek.  xxxviii.,  xxxix.)  ;  the 
angel  ]\Iicliael  will  be  the  patron  of  the  people ;  many  of 
the  dead  will  arise,  some  to  honor  and  some  to  shame ;  the 
wise  sliall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament,  and 
they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness  as  the  stars  for  ever 
and  ever  (\ii.  1-4).  The  future  of  the  nation  is  thus  con- 
nected with  the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  which  the  Jews 
had  recently  adopted.  The  resurrection  would  be  confined 
to  Israelites,  but  should  be  a  blessing  only  for  the  righteous ; 
that  is,  those  who  remained  faithful  to  the  national  religion. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  321 

The  apostates  should  be  overwhelmed  with  contempt.  The 
abode  of  the  new  congregation  was  to  be  on  the  earth,  but 
under  what  local  conditions  is  not  said  ;  it  was  sufficient 
that  there  should  be  victory  and  happiness.  It  does  not 
appear  whether  the  writer  supposed  that  all  other  nations 
were  to  be  set  aside,  so  that  the  earth  should  be  the  pos- 
session of  the  Jews  alone  ;  into  details  on  this  point  he 
does  not  enter.  There  is  a  judgment  (vii.)  which  overthrows 
all  enemies,  and  gives  the  kingdom  to  the  saints  ;  ^  but  the 
picture  is  vague.  We  do  not  know  the  precise  nature  of 
the  resulting  world-society.  The  ethical  element  in  the  life 
of  the  restored  nation  is  the  same  as  in  the  prophets.  No 
earthly  leader  is  named  ;  there  is  no  Messiah ;  the  regen- 
erating influence  is  in  the  body  of  the  pious.  One  would 
expect  reference  to  Judas  ;  the  book  was  perhaps  written 
by  one  of  the  Hasidim  or  saints  who  regarded  themselves 
as  the  true  life  of  the  national  struggle  (between  167  and 
164  B.  c).  The  writer  expects  the  consummation  in  a  short 
while  (xii.  11-13).  He  is  explicit  and  detailed  in  his  state- 
ments up  to  near  the  death  of  Antiochus,  after  which  he 
becomes  general  and  vague  (xii.  9).  The  book  is  therefore 
simply  the  expression  of  the  hope  that  God  was  about  to  en- 
dow his  people  with  the  liappiness  promised  in  the  prophets. 
Two  things  are  especially  noticeable  in  this  picture  of  na- 
tional reconstruction.  One  is  the  character  and  function  of 
the  body  of  the  righteous  who  are  to  constitute  the  new 
national  life.  It  is  the  idea  of  a  remnant  which'  is  found 
in  Isa.  vii.-x.,  but  with  a  more  definite  and  prominent  state- 
ment of  its  ethical  perfectness  ;  the  righteous  are  wholly 
righteous,  altogether  approved  by  God.  They  suffer ;  but 
there  is  no  explanation  of  their  suffering.     It  is  not  puri- 

^  Here  apparently  (vii.  27  ;  ii.  44)  is  the  germ  of  the  expres?ion  "  kingdom 
of  heaven,"  or  "  kingdom  of  God,"  which  afterwards  came  to  be  the  name  of 
the  Messianic  era. 

21 


322  THE   KINGDOM  OF   GOD. 

fying,  as  in  Isa.  xL,  or  vicarious,  as  in  Isa.  liii. ;  it  is  accepted 
as  a  fact  without  inquiry.  Tlie  writer's  eye  is  fixed  simply 
on  the  coming  reward,  and  his  conception  of  righteousness 
is  the  legal-ritual  one  which  had  grown  up  since  the  fifth 
century.  The  second  point  is  the  author's  indifference  to 
the  political  idea.  Of  course  he  says  nothing  of  civil  lib- 
erty ;  this  was  a  question  into  which  the  Jews  never  en- 
tered. It  was  left  to  Greece  and  liome  to  develop  this 
side  of  social  life  ;  Israel  dealt  with  religion  only.  Nor 
does  the  author  think  of  the  form  of  government  any  more 
than  did  prophets,  psalmists,  and  apostles.  The  one  thing 
for  the  nation,  in  his  view,  was  national  independence  and 
exaltation  over  other  peoples,  which  should  carry  with  it 
the  supremacy  of  the  national  Law.  For  the  welfare  of 
other  nations  he  is  not  concerned  ;  his  is  that  intense  de- 
votion to  one  idea  that  was  so  important  an  element  in 
the  success  of  the  Jews. 

It  is  a  little  later  that  we  must  put  the  prediction  in  the 
Sibylline  Oracles  (iii.  652-794),  in  which  substantially  the 
same  i)icture  is  given  as  in  Daniel  :  foreign  kings  attack 
the  land  and  the  temple;  they  are  judged  and  crushed; 
there  are  signs  in  heaven  ;  terror  prevails  over  the  whole 
earth ;  the  people,  delivered  from  enemies,  dwell  in  peace  ; 
other  nations  adopt  the  worship  of  the  God  of  Israel ;  the 
world  shares  the  blessings  of  the  chosen  nation  ;  there  is  to 
be  universal  freedom  from  suffering  ;  Greece  is  exhorted  to 
pray  submissively  to  God,  who  was  about  to  establish  an 
everlasting  kingdom  of  peace.  The  allusion  is  most  prob- 
ably to  the  Maccabean  struggle  ;  but  the  Sibyl  differs  from 
Daniel  in  looking  for  a  king  who  should  rule  in  the  fear 
and  by  the  help  of  God,  —  a  trait  taken  from  the  prophets, 
and  especially  suggested,  perhaps,  by  the  existing  Macca- 
bean rulers  and  the  writer's  familiarity  with  Greek  king- 
doms.    The  king  has  no  supernatural  endowments  ;  he  is 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  323 

simply  one  of  the  people.  He  is  not  the  Messiah  in  the 
later  significance  of  the  word.  There  is  the  same  ignoring 
of  the  political  problem  proper  as  in  Daniel,  but  more  recog- 
nition of  the  personality  of  foreign  peoples,  that  is  to  say, 
of  the  one  alien  people  with  which  the  writer  was  in  con- 
tact, —  a  difference  that  came  from  the  more  cosmopolitan 
spirit  of  the  Egyptian  Jewish  colony.  As  to  the  hope  of 
an  independent  Jewish  state,  this  was  made  possible  and 
was  doubtless  suggested  by  the  innumerable  strifes  between 
the  various  Greek  kingdoms  of  Asia  and  Africa.  The  ]Mac- 
cabean  movement  had  succeeded,  and  might  sustain  itself. 
Jewish  enthusiasm  has  always  ignored  seemingly  insuper- 
able difficulties.  It  is  nevertheless  remarkable,  when  from 
our  point  of  view  we  survey  the  historical  situation,  to  find 
this  political  vitality  in  a  tiny  fragment  of  the  Grasco-Eoman 
world,  while  at  the  same  time  the  scribes  were  building  up 
a  compact  and  powerful  ethical-religious  organization. 

A  further  step  in  the  elaboration  of  the  picture  of  the 
future  is  taken  in  Enoch  xc.  16-38,  a  passage  which  be- 
longs to  the  same  general  period  as  the  one  above  cited. 
The  author  gives  a  review,  couched  in  symbolical  language, 
of  the  history  of  Israel,  and  comes  finally  to  the  time  when 
the  people  were  devoured  by  the  Greeks.  He  describes  the 
rise  of  the  Hasidim,  and  the  appearance  of  a  great,  victo- 
rious leader,  who  is  probably  Judas  Maccabaeus  (but  held  by 
some  to  be  John  Hyrcanus  the  First ;  the  difference  in  time 
is  not  important  for  the  idea).  Then  comes  the  final  gen- 
eral attack  of  the  enemies  of  Israel,  their  overthrow  by  God, 
the  judgment  of  the  angels  and  of  the  unfaithful  Israelites, 
and  the  establishment  of  the  new  Jerusalem  grander  and 
more  beautiful  than  the  old.  Then  the  Messiah  appears,  one 
of  the  people,  not  a  supernatural  personage,  yet  wielding 
authority  over  all  the  nations.  The  advance  in  the  thought 
is  the  greater  prominence  given  to  the  person  of  the  Mes- 


324  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

siah,  who,  however,  is  not  the  author  of  the  delivei'ance  (that 
is  effected  by  God),  but  comes  forward  after  its  completion. 
The  ethical  element  is  the  same  as  in  the  Sibyl,  but  the 
greater  prominence  is  given  to  the  political  deliverance.  It 
seemed  to  the  writer  that  the  old  glories  of  the  Davidic 
kingdom  might  now  be  renewed,  and  otlier  nations  might 
share  the  blessing  by  submitting  to  Israel. 

In  addition  to  this  purely  national  expectation,  Enoch 
has  the  representation  of  a  general  judgment  (i. ;  xxii.  11; 
Ixxxiv.  4),  the  result  of  wliich  shall  be  the  destruction  of 
evil  and  the  constitution  of  the  just  into  a  blessed  congre- 
gation for  the  worship  of  the  one  only  God.  In  the  chap- 
ter quoted  above,  also  (xc),  there  is  a  judgment  of  evil 
angels  and  renegade  Jews  (20-27),  while  the  heathen  op- 
pressors are  converted  to  the  worship  of  the  God  of  Israel 
(33).  Whether  these  two  judgments  are  identical  is  not 
clear ;  the  first  seems  to  be  held  on  Sinai  (i.  4),  the  second 
in  Palestine  (xc.  20).  Nor  is  anytbing  said  in  the  second 
account  of  judgment  of  a  punishment  to  be  inflicted  on 
human  enemies.^  There  is  the  same  vagueness  here  as  in 
Daniel.  But  tlie  general  result,  according  to  both  books, 
seems  to  be  that  at  a  certain  moment  God  intervenes,  de- 
stroys all  opposition  to  his  people,  and  establishes  them 
(restoring  the  dead  to  life)  in  security  in  Palestine,  making 
Jerusalem  (a  new  Jerusalem,  according  to  Enoch)  the  centre 
of  religious  worship  for  the  world.  It  was  a  wave  of  Mes- 
sianic feeling  produced  by  the  apparently  brilliant  outcome 
of  the  Hasmonean  uprising. 

1  We  liave  licre  probably  notliinpj  more  tlian  a  repetition  of  tlie  ])roplietic 
pictures.  Isa.  Ix.  represents  kings  as  coming  to  pay  lioinage  to  tlie  glori- 
fied Israel ;  of  a  judgment  on  them  nothing  is  said.  Otlier  prophets,  as  Joel 
(followed  by  Daniel  and  the  Sibyl),  think  of  a  sentence  of  condemnation 
and  destruction  passed  on  alien  nations.  'J'he  details  of  the  future  were  dif- 
ferently construed  l)y  different  seers ;  the  main  thing  was  the  triumph  of 
Israel. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  325 

The  hopes  excited  by  the  first  Maccabean  successes  grad- 
ually vanished  amid  the  experiences  of  a  petty  kingdom. 
So  long  as  the  Hasmonean  dynasty  retained  its  position,  the 
dream  of  independence  miglit  seem  to  be  realized,  and  Sad- 
ducees  and  Pharisees  were  content  to  struggle  with  each 
other  for  the  control  of  affairs.  For  nearly  a  century  the 
Jews  were  absorbed  in  internal  and  external  political  and 
religious  dissensions,  and  we  hear  nothing  of  apocalyptic 
visions.  With  the  approach  of  the  Eonians  under  Pompey 
the  cry  for  deliverance  made  itself  heard  again.  In  the 
Psalter  of  Solomon  (c.  b.  c.  48)  we  find  the  prayer  that  God 
would  raise  up  Israel's  king,  the  son  of  David,  Christ,  Lord, 
to  destroy  his  people's  enemies,  to  reign  over  all  the  earth, 
to  make  Jerusalem  the  centre  of  worship  for  the  whole 
world  (Ps.  xvii.).  Here  for  the  first  time  the  deliverer  is 
called  the  Anointed,  the  Messiah,  the  Christ.  It  is  the  old 
prophetic  hope  without  apocalyptic  details. 

A  passage  in  the  Sibylline  Oracles  (iii.  36-62),  which 
appears  to  belong  to  the  time  of  the  Second  Triumvirate 
(b.  c.  43  or  42),  announces  the  speedy  establishment  of  the 
kingdom  of  God.  A  much  more  developed  view  is  given 
'in  the  Parables  of  the  book  of  Enoch  (xxxvii.-lxxi.),  espe- 
cially in  the  second  Parable  (xlv.-lvii.,  omitting  the  Noachic 
interpolation,  liv.  7-lv.  2),  which,  from  the  mention  of  the 
Parthians  (Ivi.  5),  probably  a  reference  to  the  Parthian  in- 
vasion of  Palestine,  may  be  put  near  the  year  B.  c.  40. 
Here  the  general  judgment  is  committed  by  the  Lord  of 
the  spirits,  the  Head  of  days  (Dan.  vii.  9),  to  the  Messiah, 
who  is  called,  after  Daniel,  the  Son  of  Man,  but  is  more 
commonly  styled  the  Chosen  One.  The  judgment  is  directed 
against  the  kings  and  other  potentates  who  oppressed  Israel, 
herein  following  the  prophets,  and  differing  from  the  earlier 
part  of  Enoch.  The  situation  had  changed  during  the  past 
century.     Israel  triumphant  and  hopeful  might  be  magnan- 


326  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

imoiis  ;  crushed  and  weary,  it  would  naturally  be  severe. 
There  is  to  be  a  general  resurrection.  Glory  and  honor 
are  to  accrue  to  the  holy  and  just  (that  is,  faithful  Israel- 
ites), and  they  are  to  dwell  on  the  renovated  earth.  The 
most  striking  point  in  the  description  is  the  apparent  ascrip- 
tion of  pre-existence  to  the  Messiah.  His  name  was  called, 
it  is  said,  and  he  was  chosen  and  hidden  before  the  world 
was  made ;  and  he  will  continue  to  exist  forever.  It  is  not 
clear,  however,  whether  this  pre-existence  was  real  or  ideal. 
The  idea  of  prenatal  calling  is  not  foreign  to  the  Old  Testa- 
ment :  the  prophet  Jeremiah  was  set  apart  to  his  work  be- 
fore he  was  born  (Jer.  i.  5,  and  cf.  Isa.  xlix.  5) ;  and  we  may 
have  here  the  conception  of  the  later  Jewish  theology,  that 
the  Messiah  existed  indeed  from  eternity  in  the  divine  pur- 
pose, but  came  into  real  being  only  when  he  was  manifested 
to  the  world.^  With  this  view  would  accord  the  statement 
of  the  Parable  (xlviii.  7),  that  the  wisdom  of  God  revealed 
the  Messiah  [in  the  day  of  judgment  or  divine  intervention] 
to  the  holy  and  just,  in  order  that  their  portion  might  be 
preserved.  The  epithet  "  chosen  "  may  have  been  suggested 
by  such  a  passage  as  Isa.  xlii.  1  (as  the  whole  of  the  section 
xlii.  1-17  seems  to  have  furnished  material  for  later  Mes- 
sianic systems),  and  represents  in  general  an  idea  familiar 
to  the  Jews.  The  conception  of  pre-existence,  thus  stated 
ideally,  prepared  the  way  for  the  more  definite  view  of  Paul 
and  the  Fourth  Gospel.^  In  other  regards  the  Messianic 
scheme  of  the  Parables  agrees  substantially  with  that  of  the 
earlier  books.    Nothing  is  said  of  atonement.    There  is  no 

1  For  the  Targiimic  and  Talinudic  references  see  Weber,  "  System," 
§§  78,  79. 

2  For  the  discussion  of  the  question  wlietiicr  tliis  part  of  tlie  Parables  is 
of  Christian  origin  see  Drummond,  Sduxble,  Sdiiirer.  On  page  6.'3  I  say- 
that  the  role  assigned  the  Messiah  seems  to  point  to  a  Christian  source  ; 
but  further  consideration  has  led  me  to  change  my  opinion  on  this  point.  A 
Christian  writer  would  i)robably  have  made  his  statements  more  definite. 


THE   KINGDOM  OF   GOD.  327 

feeling  of  international  comity.  The  kingdom  of  God  is 
understood  in  a  purely  national  way ;  and  while  the  whole 
view  of  the  future  involves  the  ordinary  ethical  elements, 
the  Messiah  is  in  himself  not  specifically  an  ethical  power. 

The  remaining  literature  of  the  pre-Christian  period  pre- 
sents no  new  elements  of  the  Messianic  hope.  The  Assump- 
tion of  Moses  (X.),  written  about  the  beginning  of  our  era, 
represents  the  kingdom  of  God  as  about  to  be  established, 
heralded  by  signs  in  the  heavens  and  on  the  earth,  and 
Israel  victorious  and  honored.  The  Book  of  Jubilees,  half 
a  century  later,  has  only  a  very  general  picture  of  deliver- 
ance (i.).  A  little  earlier,  Philo  in  two  passages  already 
cited  (ii.  435,  421-428)  describes  the  political  and  moral  re- 
demption of  the  people  under  the  leadership  of  an  eminent 
man  who  cannot  be  the  logos,  but  may  be  the  Messiah. 
Philo  apparently  knew  nothing  of  Jesus,  whose  contempo- 
rary he  was,  and  he  has  very  little  to  say  of  the  fortunes 
of  his  people  ;  yet  it  appears  that  to  him  also,  immersed 
as  he  was  in  philosophical  speculation,  the  idea  of  national 
deliverance  was  not  wanting. 

In  estimating  the  elements  of  the  national  hope,  we  must, 
however,  not  lose  sight  of  the  moral  progress  which  is  to 
be  traced  in  the  non- apocalyptic  writings, —  in  the  Wisdom- 
books,  and  the  teachings  of  the  schools.  The  apocalypses 
undertook  to  define  the  religious-political  future  with  more 
or  less  distinctness  ;  and  though  their  specific  predictions 
were  set  aside  from  time  to  time  l)y  the  march  of  events, 
their  general  expectation  of  national  deliverance  was  doubt- 
less shared  by  the  body  of  the  people.  Antiochus  Epiphanes 
died  ;  the  Hasmonean  princes  ruled  ;  but  there  was  no  real- 
ization of  the  dream  of  a  world-kingdom.  Judea  remained 
a  petty  province,  felt  the  weight  of  the  Ptoman  power,  and 
passed  into  the  hands  of  an  Idumean  king.  The  people  con- 
tinued to  hope  against  hope.     Meantime  the  intellectual- 


328  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

religious  life  went  on,  the  moral  consciousness  of  the  nation 
gathered  force,  and  formed  part  of  the  national  hope.  The 
dream  of  political  independence  was  never  abandoned,  but 
it  could  not  be  divorced  from  that  moral  ideal  which  had 
arisen  out  of  all  the  experiences  of  the  past  centuries. 

To  sum  up  the  Messianic  material  in  pre-Christian  liter- 
ature :  the  fundamental  element  is  the  destruction  or  coer- 
cion of  Israel's  enemies,  and  the  escablishment  of  the  people 
in  Palestine  in  political  independence  and  prosperity,  some- 
times by  the  immediate  act  of  God,  sometimes  by  means  of 
a  king  or  other  leader,  a  man  sprung  from  the  people,  but 
raised  up  by  God  and  endowed  with  all  the  qualities  neces- 
sary to  secure  success  ;  at  the  same  time  the  worship  of  the 
God  of  Israel  receives  universal  recognition,  and  Jerusalem 
becomes  the  religious  centre  of  the  regenerated  world,  the 
new  heavens  and  eartli. 

The  condition  of  membership  in  the  new  community  is 
twofold ;  national  and  religious.  It  is,  first  of  all,  Israelites 
who  are  entitled  to  the  blessing,  but  only  faithful  Israelites. 
The  stress  is  laid  on  devotion  to  the  national  faith  ;  general 
obedience  to  the  laws  of  morality  is  assumed,  but  not  em- 
phasized. Others  than  Israehtes  may  become  sharers  in  the 
advantages  of  the  new  dispensation  by  accepting  the  na- 
tional Jewish  religion.  To  these  the  same  sort  of  moral 
test  is  applied  as  to  Jews.^     If,  however,  they  do  not  sub- 

1  Prosclytisin  was  an  anticipation  of  tliis  procedure  It  seem.s  to  have 
begun  in  tlie  latter  half  of  tlie  first  century  n.  c.  (John  Ilyrcanus's  forcihie 
conversion  of  the  Idumeans  was  a  purely  p;)litical  measure,  hut  may  he  re- 
garded as  the  indication  of  a  tendency).  Judaism  was  one  of  several  Africo- 
Asiatic  religions  that  then  attracted  the  GrjBco-Roman  world.  Though  it 
repelled  by  its  local  and  oppressive  ritual,  it  attracted  hv  its  moral-religious 
]iuritv  and  strenuousness,  and  by  the  hopes  it  held  out  for  the  future.  Juda- 
ism thus  took  one  step  toward  denationalizing  itself.  Ilillel  (and  probably 
one  section  of  the  Egyptian  Jews)  was  very  liberal  in  the  construction  of 
tlic  terms  of  admission.  Under  favorable  circumstances,  it  seemed,  Judaism 
miglit  tlirow  off  its  local  character  and  become  a  world-religion ;  and  this 
it  actually  did  liccoine  in  the  form  of  Christianity. 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD.  329 

mit  they  are  to  be  punished.^  As  to  whether  they  will 
submit  or  prove  obstinate,  this  is  variously  decided ;  aud 
the  question  is  complicated  by  the  introduction  of  the  con- 
ception of  a  judgment  and  a  future  Hfe.  This  judgment, 
represented  sometimes  as  held  by  God,  sometimes  as  held 
by  the  Messiah,  ushers  in  the  Messianic  era,  and  the  chosen 
people  dwell  on  the  earth.  But  the  conception  of  the  future 
life  was  in  process  of  formulation,  and  the  mode  in  which 
the  heathen  are  to  be  dealt  with  is  not  stated  precisely. 
In  one  point,  however,  all  shades  of  opinion  agree  :  there 
is  to  be  endless  triumph  for  the  people  of  Israel  and  their 
religion. 

In  the  New  Testament  we  find  mention  of  several  points 
in  the  popular  belief,  which  do  not  appear  in  the  Jewish  lit- 
erature, such  as  that  the  Messiah  was  to  be  born  in  Beth- 
lehem (Matt,  ii.) ;  that  when  he  appeared  no  one  would 
know  whence  he  came ;  that  he  would  work  miracles  ;  that 
he  would  be  preceded  by  Elijah  or  Jeremiah  or  some  un- 
named prophet  (Matt.  xi.  3,  10,  11 ;  xvi.  13,  14;  xvii.  10,  11  ; 
John  vii.  27,  31,  40-42).  It  is  evident,  from  Dan.  ix.  as 
well  as  from  the  New  Testament,  that  the  pious  and  the 
scribes  had  for  some  time  been  searching  the  sacred  books 
for  predictions  of  the  great  deliverance.  As  soon  as  the 
idea  of  an  individual  Messiah  was  established,  ardent  men 
would  see  a  reference  to  him,  a  description  of  his  person 
or  of  the  circumstances  of  his  coming,  in  many  a  passage 
of  the  Scripture.  Doubtless  many  such  Messianic  allusions 
were  current  among  the  people  that  do  not  appear  in  the 
New  Testament.^    That  Bethlehem  was  to  be  the  birthplace 

1  The  same  thinp  in  Islam.  Mohammedan  preachers  still  continue,  in  the 
Friday  mosque-service,  to  invoke  the  divine  vengeance  on  the  unbelieving 
oppressor. 

2  The  Talmud  contains  all  this  material  and  much  more  of  similar  char- 
acter, part  of  which  probably  goes  back  to  the  first  century  of  our  era.  See 
"Weber's  "System,"  Edersheim's  "Life  and  Times  of  Jesus  the  Messiah," 


330  THE   KINGDOM  OF  GOD. 

of  the  deliverer  was  inferred  from  Mic.  v.  2  (1) ;  that  his 
appearance  was  to  be  mysterious,  perhaps  from  Mai.  iii.  1 ; 
his  power  of  working  miracles  might  be  suggested  by  such 
passages  as  Isa.  xxxv.  5,  or  might  be  regarded  as  a  neces- 
sary accompaniment  of  his  exalted  mission,  since  the  proph- 
ets Elijah  and  Elisha  and  others  were  endowed  with  this 
power ;  Mai.  iv.  5  (iii.  23)  seems  to  say  that  Elijah  would 
be  the  forerunner  of  the  grand  catastrophe ;  the  great  rule 
assigned  to  Jeremiah  appears  from  2  Mac.  ii.  1-8,^  xv.  13- 
15 ;  and  the  important  parts  played  by  him  and  other  proph- 
ets (as  Isaiah)  in  the  old  history  may  explain  the  position 
given  them  in  the  current  Messianic  theories,^  It  appears 
also  from  tlie  Gospels  that  the  Messianic  hope  was  gen- 
erally diffused  among  the  people  and  excited  lively  inter- 
est. The  same  thing  may  be  inferred  from  the  local  polit- 
ical revolts  which  took  place  from  time  to  time  during  the 
first  century  of  our  era.  There  must  have  been  an  under- 
current of  deep  ]\Iessianic  feeling  in  Palestine.  The  social- 
religious  life  went  for  the  most  part  quietly  on.  The  people 
bought  and  sold,  the  scribes  worked  out  the  minutia?  of 
the  law,  the  priests  officiated  in  the  temple  ;  but  under 
this  outward  acceptance  of  the  Roman   rule   there  was  in 

Drummoud's  "  Jewish  Messiah,"  Duschak's  "  Bihliseh-taluuulische  Glaubeus- 
lehre  " 

1  The  autlior  refers  A-aguely  to  earlier  material  for  tlie  source  of  his  lej^eiid 
of  Jeremiah,  a  story  which,  tiius  ai-eidentally  preserved,  suggests  tiiat  tliere 
were  others  of  the  same  sort  wliieh  have  been  lost. 

-  Neitlier  in  tiie  pre-Christian  Jewish  literature  nor  in  the  earlier  Targums 
is  there  any  trace  of  a  suffering  Messiah.  The  idea  of  a  non-expiatory  suffer- 
ing, which  appears  in  the  Talmud,  and  is  attributed  to  the  Jews  by  Justin 
Martyr  (Trypho,  Ixviii.  Ixxxix.),  may  have  existed  as  early  as  the  first  cen- 
tury or  earlier.  The  conception  of  an  ex])iatory  suffering  of  the  Messiah, 
which  might  naturally  be  suggested  by  Isa.  liii.,  is  found  in  later  works,  but 
was  foreign  to  the  reigning  Jewisli  thouglit,  and  has  never  taken  hold  of 
Jewish  feeling.  On  the  otiier  hand,  that  the  righteous  may  turn  away  the 
divine  wrath  from  their  friends  and  from  tlie  nation  is  an  idea  familiar  to 
the  Old  Testament  as  well  as  to  the  Talmud.  Weber,  "  System,"  chs.  xx. 
xxii.,  Schiirer,  "  Geschichte,"  pp.  464  ff. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  331 

the  first  century,  as  there  had  often  been  before,  an  eager 
hope,  a  latent  expectation  that  God  was  about  to  interpose, 
that  the  man  would  soon  appear  who  should  lead  Israel 
to  glory. 

6.  But  there  was  more  than  this.  The  materials  for 
tracing  tlie  history  of  Messianic  thought  during  the  fifty 
years  preceding  the  birth  of  Jesus  are  scanty.  We  have  a 
few  psalms,  a  few  somewhat  vague  verses  in  the  Sibylline 
oracles,  the  Enoch-Parables,  and  some  detached  ethical-legal 
sayings  of  prominent  lawyers.  The  country  was  in  a  state 
of  unrest ;  the  reign  of  Herod  was  marked  by  conflicts  with- 
out and  disorders  within.  Quiet  was  restored  by  the  ban- 
ishment of  Archelaus,  and  the  final  incorporation  of  Pal- 
estine into  the  Roman  Empire  under  a  procurator ;  but  it 
was  only  an  external  and  partial  quiet.  The  people  were 
wearied  and  sore  at  heart.  It  was  not  a  time  for  literary 
production  ;  yet  during  this  period  the  seeds  of  a  great 
religious  revolution  were  germinating.  In  the  absence  of 
specific  historical  information,  we  can  only  conjecture  the 
causes  which  produced  in  the  more  serious  minds  a  pro- 
founder  view  of  tlie  political-religious  situation.  One  of 
these  we  may  judge  to  be  the  recognition  of  the  hopeless- 
ness of  a  struggle  against  the  power  of  the  Pioman  Empire. 
There  had  been  for  a  long  time  in  the  higher  circles  of 
Jewish  society  a  pronounced  aversion  to  political  revolt. 
The  Sadducees  were  content  with  their  position  as  aristo- 
cratic representatives  of  the  old  religious  order,  especially 
as  they  freely  adopted  the  broader  social  ideas  and  habits 
of  their  cultivated  neighbors ;  the  Pharisees  were  absorbed 
in  the  elaboration  of  the  Law  on  its  ceremonial  and  eth- 
ical sides,  holding  this  to  be  the  real  life  of  the  nation, 
anxious  mainly  for  the  quiet  necessary  to  do  their  legal 
work,  willing  to  accept  any  government  which  left  them  in 
peace.    One  result  of  this  recognition  of  the  existhig  order 


332  THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD. 

of  things  we  may  suppose  to  have  been  an  enfeebling  of 
the  desire  for  political  sovereignty,  and  in  so  far  a  modifi- 
cation of  the  old  Messianic  scheme. 

In  addition  to  this,  there  was  the  recognition  of  tlie  neces- 
sity of  moral  reform.  It  is  likely  that  this  feeling  of  the 
ethical  shortcomings  of  the  nation,  handed  down  from  the 
prophets,  had  never  been  entirely  wanting.  There  was  a 
time,  indeed  (as  we  see  from  such  writings  as  Ps.  xliv.), 
when  there  existed  in  certain  circles  a  consciousness  of  na- 
tional righteousness  ;  but  this  was  mainly  the  expression 
of  Israel's  devotion  to  the  one  true  God  and  his  law,  in 
contrast  with  the  idolatry  and  lawlessness  of  neighboring 
nations.  No  serious  mind  could  fail  to  perceive  the  eth- 
ical defects  of  Jewish  society.  We  need  not  suppose  that 
these  exceeded  the  bounds  of  ordinary  human  weakness. 
Then,  as  now,  there  was  enough  self-seeking,  untruth- 
fulness, hypocrisy,  oppression,  to  call  forth  the  severest 
condemnation  of  moral-religious  teachers.  Perhaps  the  dis- 
orders of  the  times  intensified  the  feeling  of  ethical  dissat- 
isfaction. The  assiduous  study  of  the  prophets  forced  on 
reflecting  minds  the  conviction  that  an  inward  change  was 
necessary  before  the  people  could  receive  the  long-promised 
divine  blessing.  The  first  condition  of  God's  aid,  it  might 
naturally  be  felt,  was  a  moral-veligious  reform.  One  other 
step  might  have  been  taken.  To  a  profounder  spiritual 
soul  it  might  seem  that  the  essence  of  the  divine  salvation 
would  be  faithful  obedience  to  the  law  of  God.  This  was, 
indeed,  the  new  covenant  of  Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel ;  and 
this  was  the  characteristic  of  the  ideal  Israel,  which,  accord- 
ding  to  the  exilian  Isaiah,  was  to  be  the  bearer  of  truth 
and  light  to  the  world.  Such  a  view  would  not  neces- 
sarily exclude  (as  in  the  prophets  it  did  not  exclude)  the 
conception  of  a  special  divine  interposition  in  the  future  ; 
but  it  would  transform  the  scheme  of  God's  earthly  king- 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  333 

dom  from  a  political  sovereignty  to  a  society  organized  on 
moral-religious  principles.  Such  thoughts  as  these  may  have 
floated,  more  or  less  vaguely,  in  the  more  serious  and  reflec- 
tive minds  in  the  century  preceding  the  birth  of  John  the 
Baptist.  There  are  hints  that  such  an  ethical  view  of  the 
situation,  though  doubtless  feeble  and  indistinct,  actually  ex- 
isted among  the  people.  Of  this  nature  was  the  expectation, 
derived  from  the  conclusion  of  Malachi's  prophecy,  that  Eli- 
jah, in  the  role  of  moral  reformer,  would  precede  the  final 
interposition  of  God  ;  and  according  to  John  iv.  25,  there 
was  a  belief  that  the  Messiah  when  he  came  would  solve 
all  religious  problems.  We  may  point  also  to  the  moral 
earnestness  of  Hillel's  reported  sayings,  to  tlie  profound  de- 
sire for  personal  purity  which  was  embodied  in  the  Essene 
organization,  and  in  general  to  all  those  moral  elements  in 
the  idea  of  the  kingdom  of  God  which  are  mentioned  above. 
If  such  a  feeling  existed  in  Palestine  at  that  time,  we  can- 
not be  surprised  at  the  appearance  of  a  man  like  John  the 
Baptist.  Of  his  antecedents  we  know  nothing;  he  appears 
suddenly  in  Judea  as  a  preacher  of  repentance  and  a  herald 
of  the  approach  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  More  than  this  he 
did  not  claim  to  be.  He  rebuked  the  sins  of  all  classes  of 
society  (Mark  i.,  ]\Iatt.  iii.,  Luke  iii.) ;  he  met  his  death  by 
his  denunciation  of  the  immoral  conduct  of  King  Herod 
(Mark  vi.  17-29).  His  silence  is  as  significant  as  his  utter- 
ance. In  his  reported  words  he  says  nothing  of  a  political 
kingdom,  he  draws  no  detailed  picture  of  the  future ;  he  con- 
fines himself  to  moral  exhortation.  For  him  the  kingdom  of 
God  seems  to  be  simply  the  purification  of  the  national  life. 
How  far  he  shared  the  prevailing  views  respecting  this  king- 
dom it  is  perhaps  impossible  to  say.  The  sober  report  of  his 
preaching  in  the  Synoptics  may  be  due  to  a  process  of  sifting 
by  a  later  generation  when  Christian  ideas  prevailed.  But  it 
is  still  noteworthy  that  he  by  no  word  suggests  other  than  a 


334  THE   KINGDOM  OF   GOD. 

moral-religious  role  for  the  ]\Iessiah,  and  that  no  record  con- 
nects him  or  his  followers  with  any  political  movement.^ 

He  was  the  last  of  the  prophets.  He  had  the  thorough- 
going, uncompromising  decision  and  fearlessness  of  Elijali, 
whom  he  seems  to  have  taken  as  his  model  in  dress  and 
demeanor.  Like  Elijah,  he  worked  only  for  present  reforma- 
tion within  the  bounds  of  the  national  religious  organization. 
He  hoped  for  a  coming  kingdom  of  God,  but  he  did  not  cher- 
ish the  brilliant  anticipations  of  the  writing  prophets.  He 
did  not  think  of  himself  as  the  person  destined  to  introduce 
the  new  dispensation  of  things.  He  felt  that  while  he  was 
a  preacher  of  righteousness,  a  stronger  arm  than  his  was 
needed  to  establish  the  perfect  divine  society.  He  spoke  of 
a  successor,  who  should  complete  what  he  had  begun,  who 
should  baptize  2  not  with  water  but  with  the  Holy  Spirit.^ 
Who  this  successor  was  to  be  he  seems  never  to  have  known. 
After  he  was  thrown  into  prison  by  Herod,  he  heard  of  the 
new  teacher  whose  fame  had  spread  throughout  the  land, 
and  sent  messengers  to  him  to  ask  if  it  was  he  that  should 
come,  or  whether  they  were  still  to  expect  some  other.  The 
tone  of  the  question  implies  ignorance  on  John's  part  of  the 

1  What  Josephus  says  of  him  a,2;rees  substantially  with  the  statements  in 
the  Gospels. 

2  Schneckenblirger  and  others  hold  that  the  baptism  of  John  was  a  new 
ceremony,  not  borrowed  from  the  Jews,  and  I  took  the  same  position  in  an 
article  on  proselyte-baptism  in  "  The  Baptist  Quarterly  "  (1872) ;  but  it  now 
seems  to  me  that  the  facts  favor  the  opposite  view. 

'^  The  incident  recorded  in  Acts  xix.  1-7  seems  to  show  that  a  theory  of 
immediate  divine  influence  did  not  exist  among  the  disciples  of  John.  If 
in  verse  3  we  are  to  translate,  "  We  have  not  even  heard  whether  there  is  a 
Holy  Spirit,"  it  must  be  concluded  either  that  John  said  nothing  about  such 
a  divine  power,  or,  as  is  more  probable,  that  these  particular  disciples  had 
failed  to  receive  the  proper  information.  It  seems  unlikely,  however,  that 
any  disciple  of  John  could  be  ignorant  of  the  existence  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
—  a  common  Jewish  idea  of  the  time,  —  or  without  the  hope  of  that  out- 
pouring which  was  promised  by  the  prophets  (Joel  iii.)-  The  alternative  ren- 
dering, "  whether  the  Holy  Spirit  is  "  (harsh,  but  not  impossible),  would  imply 
only  that  these  disciples  did  uot  kuow  of  the  pouring  out  of  the  Spirit. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  335 

person  and  purpose  of  the  young  master,  who  had  indeed 
heim  baptized  by  him,  but  had  been  undistinguished  in  the 
crowd.i  For  answer  Jesus  simply  pointed  to  what  he  was 
doing  (Matt.  xi.).  It  is  not  said  what  conclusion  John  drew 
from  this  response.  Jesus  expressed  his  own  opinion  of  John 
in  a  very  decided  manner.  According  to  the  First  Gospel,  he 
declared  that  John  was  more  than  a  prophet ;  that  no  greater 
man  than  he  had  yet  appeared  in  the  history  of  Israel ;  and 
at  a  later  period,  when  the  Pharisees  demanded  the  source 
of  his  authority,  he  replied  by  asking  whether  they  looked 
on  John's  mission  as  deriving  its  authority  from  men  or  from 
God.  They  were  unwilling  to  commit  themselves  to  a  defi- 
nite answer,  and  he  therefore  declined  to  answer  their  ques- 
tion ;  but  he  evidently  placed  himself  in  the  same  category 
with  John  so  far  as  the  authority  of  his  mission  was  con- 
cerned (Matt.  xi.  7-19  ;  xxi.  23-32).2 

John  died  without  having  witnessed  any  great  forward 
movement  in  the  people.  His  disciples  continued  to  exist 
in  the  form  of  a  sect  for  a  considerable  time  (Acts  xix.  3), 
but  apparently  without  exerting  any  considerable  influence 
on  the  community.  They  had  little  to  affect  the  popular 
imagination,  or  stir  to  action.  We  should  suppose  that  they 
all  would  have  taken  Jesus  for  their  teacher  after  the  death 
of  John ;  yet  they  not  only  retained  their  separate  organ- 
ization, but  according  to  Matt.  ix.  14,  in  certain  customs,  as 
fasting,  they  were  nearer  to  the  Pharisees  than  to  the  dis- 
ciples of  Jesus.3  They  seem  to  have  represented  little  more 
than  a  somewhat  dull  moral  reform.  Perhaps  they  were  also 
looking  for  a  Messiah  ;  but  if  so,  their  expectation  was  un- 
defined, and  stirred  no  great  hopes  among  the  people.    John's 

1  The  incident  mentioned  in  Mark  i.  10,  11,  is  an  addition  of  the  later  ti*a- 
dition.     If  John  had  witnessed  it,  he  would  not  have  sent  such  a  message. 

2  Cf.  Maurice  Vernes,  "Histoire  des  Idees  Messianiques,"  Paris,  1874. 

3  From  this  fact  it  may  reasonably  be  inferred  that  John  had  said  nothing 
of  Jesus  to  his  disciples,  and  was  unacquainted  with  the  ideas  of  his  successor. 


336  THE   KINGDOM  OF   GOD. 

movement  was  completely  swallowed  up  in  that  of  Jesus, 
and  left  no  traces,  as  far  as  we  can  perceive,  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  nation.  It  was  a  real  response  to  the  demand 
of  the  times,  but  not  strong  and  deep  enough  to  furnish  all 
that  was  needed.  It  was  the  last  attempt  of  the  old  pro- 
phetic thought  to  guide  the  religious  life  of  the  nation,  and 
it  proved  a  failure.  The  body  of  the  nation  continued  its 
nomistic  development,  while  tlie  disciples  of  Jesus  threw  off 
the  Law.  The  Johannites  neither  attained  to  any  deep  spir- 
ituality nor  affected  the  growth  of  the  nomism  to  which  they 
continued  to  cling. 

John  may  be  called,  in  a  peculiar  sense,  a  Jewish  product, 
the  outcome  of  the  national  development.  Of  pure,  unmixed 
nationalism,  indeed,  we  cannot  speak,  for  the  Jewish  thought 
of  the  time,  as  we  have  seen,  was  all  colored  more  or  less  by 
foreign  influences.  But  John  seems  to  represent  particularly 
a  circle  which  held  to  the  traditional  moral-religious  ideas. 
His  was  a  sturdy,  outspoken  ethical  syotem.  He  lashed  the 
vices  of  the  time  ;  he  denounced  the  leaders  of  orthodoxy 
as  a  brood  of  vipers.  Ife  had  the  moral  insight  of  a  true 
reformer,  and  he  had  further  the  power  of  genius  or  the 
skill  to  separate  the  local  from  the  general  in  the  prophetic 
teaching.  He  is  even  reported  (^Matt.  iii.  9)  as  anticipating 
the  Apostle  Paul  in  discarding  the  national  and  hereditary 
claim  to  the  divine  favor,  and  looking,  as  it  seems,  in  part, 
outside  of  Israel  for  the  membership  of  the  kingdom  of  God.^ 
In  so  far  his  work  was  an  attempt  to  convert  Judaism  into 
a  universal  religion.  He  lacked  enthusiasm  for  humanity, 
tenderness  of  sympathy,  breadth  and  depth  of  ethical  prin- 
ciple.    He  seems  to  have  aroused  interest  in  all  classes  of 

1  The  partial  rejection  of  Israel  is  an  old  prophetic  idea  (Am.  iii.  2 ;  Isa 
X.  22),  and  a  certain  sort  of  incoming  of  Gentiles  was  early  looked  forward  to 
(Isa.  Ix.).  Whether  the  word  ascribed  to  John  is  simply  a  repetition  of  this 
old  prediction  (cf.  Mark  xii.  9),  only  in  a  more  definite  way,  or  the  reflection 
of  a  later  time,  it  is  difficult  to  say. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  337 

Jewish  society  (Matt.  iii.  5-7),  but  he  was  overborne  by  the 
current  of  the  times.  He  is  a  witness  to  a  definitely  Jew- 
ish demand  for  moral  reform. 

The  desire  for  reform  was,  however,  not  confined  to  the 
Jews,  but  made  itself  felt  throughout  the  Gneco-Eoman 
world.  This  is  not  the  place  to  describe  in  detail  the  intel- 
lectual-moral condition  of  society  in  the  Eoman  empire  at 
the  beginning  of  the  first  century  of  our  era.^  That  a  nota- 
ble current  of  ethical  feeling  then  existed  in  the  western 
world  appears  from  the  writings  of  Cicero,  Ju\  enal,  Persius, 
Plutarch,  Seneca,  and  others.  These  men  not  only  attack  the 
grosser  moral  evils  of  their  time,  but  set  up  a  high  moral 
standard,  and  embody  the  striving  after  an  ideal  which  they 
are  conscious  lias  not  been  reached  by  society.  This  deeper 
moral  sentiment  was  practically  the  same  all  over  the  em- 
pire, expressed  under  different  social  and  religious  conditions 
and  in  different  ways,  yet  looking  everywliere  to  the  one  end 
of  the  purification  and  ennobling  of  life.  Juvenal  is  a  sort 
of  Roman  John  the  Baptist ;  Seneca  has  noteworthy  points 
of  ethical  agreement  with  Paul.  The  Roman  world  was  in 
an  important  sense  a  unit,  —  full  of  diversities,  indeed,  but 
informed  by  a  great  common  body  of  moral  feeling  which 
was  fed  by  streams  from  all  the  great  civilized  communities. 
The  various  ethical  tendencies  had  sprung  out  of  the  social 
conditions  of  various  independent  nations,  and  had  come 
to  form  one  mass  of  opinion  through  the  series  of  events 
which,  beginning  with  the  Assyrian,  Babylonian,  and  Per- 
sian conquests,  had  finally,  through  Greece  and  Rome,  im- 
pressed political  and  social  unity  on  a  huge  congeries  of 
communities.  The  essential  oneness  of  human  moral  expe- 
rience had  shown  itself  in  the  ethical  results  achieved  by 

^  It  is  described  in  the  works  of  Baur,  Schiirer,  and  Hausrath,  and  in  Diil- 
linger's  "  Heidenthum  und  Judeuthum"  (Eng.  transl.  "The  Gentile  and  the 
Jew"). 

22 


338  THE   KINGDOM   OF    GOD. 

these  various  peoples,  and  one  of  these  results  was  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  higher  ideal.  In  order  to  discern  clearly  why 
a  special  ethical-religious  movement  should  have  set  in  just 
at  this  time,  we  should  have  to  make  a  minute  examination 
of  the  moral  phenomena  of  the  age,  —  an  inquiry  too  large 
for  our  present  purpose.  But  two  great  and  generally  recog- 
nized facts  present  themselves  distinctly  in  the  history  of 
the  period,  and  furnish  a  not  unsatisfactory  answer  to  our 
question.  One  of  these  is  the  wide  and  intimate  intercourse 
between  members  of  different  peoples,  which  had  helped  to 
break  down  artificial  barriers  between  men  and  promote  the 
sense  of  human  brotherhood  ;  the  other  is  the  rupture  which 
had  taken  place  between  the  common-sense  of  the  Gmcco- 
lioman  world  and  the  old  mythologies,  driving  men  back 
on  fundamental  principles  of  religion  and  morals.  AVe  must 
content  ourselves  here  with  the  bare  mention  of  these  facts, 
without  attempting  to  illustrate  them  by  examples  or  trace 
them  to  their  origin. 

Eeform,  it  may  be  said,  was  in  the  air.  Eeform  is,  in- 
deed, a  constant  element  of  a  healthy  community ;  but  there 
are  special  movements  in  special  directions,  as  in  this  case. 
Different  nations  moreover,  differ  in  methods  and  capacity 
of  reform.  Especially  does  the  power  of  organization  vary 
in  different  communities.  The  organized  force  of  Greece  ex- 
pended itself  in  literature  and  philosophy,  that  of  Rome  in 
politics  and  law,  tliat  of  Israel  in  religion.  Greece  specially 
affected  ethics  through  philosophy,  Rome  through  govern- 
ment. The  -lews  had  organized  religion,  and  their  religion 
became  constantly  more  ethical;  Hillel  surpassed  Isaiah  in 
distinctness  of  moral  view.  The  conception  of  a  society 
organized  on  the  basis  of  ethical  religion  was  peculiar  to 
Jewish  thought.  The  idea  had  been  developed  by  prophets 
and  lawyers  continuously  from  Elijah  and  Amos  to  Hillel 
and  John  the  Baptist.     This  was  the  advantage  that  Israel 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  339 

had  over  Greece  and  Rome  at  the  beginning  of  our  era  : 
it  was  not  that  its  ethical  principles  and  life  were  essen- 
tially purer,  but  that  its  capacity  for  ethical-religious  organ- 
ization was  greater.  It  was  able  to  employ  in  the  most 
effective  way  the  universal  motives  of  religion  as  an  eth- 
ical lever.  Having  a  simple  and  elevated  religion,  it  could 
unite  religion  and  ethics  into  a  harmonious  and  powerful 
principle  of  life.  John  the  Baptist  endeavored  to  carry  out 
the  prophetic  idea  of  reform  under  the  conditions  of  his 
own  time,  but  the  result  showed  that  he  was  not  equal  to 
the  task  he  assumed.  He  definitely  impressed  neither  his 
own  people  nor  foreigners  ;  at  most  he  produced  in  Judea 
a  moral  excitement  which  prepared  the  way  for  his  suc- 
cessor. A  deeper  conception  of  life  and  a  stronger  person- 
ality were  needed  to  create  a  new  starting-point  for  the 
religious-ethical  forces  of  the  world. 

Jesus  apparently  began  his  career  as  a  disciple  of  John. 
But  while  he  was  well  acquainted  with  the  Baptist's  con- 
ception of  the  kingdom  of  God,  he  seems  to  have  had  no 
intimate  personal  intercourse  with  him.  He  began  his  own 
preaching  after  John's  arrest  ;  and  it  was  in  prison  that 
John's  attention  was  for  tlie  first  time  directed  to  the  work 
of  the  new  teacher.  Jesus'  idea  of  the  divine  kingdom  was 
substantially  the  same  as  that  of  his  predecessor.  Both  laid 
the  chief  stress  on  moral  reformation  within  the  Jewish 
nation  ;  both  contemplated  the  maintenance  of  the  national 
organization  and  the  perfecting  of  the  nation  into  an  in- 
strument fur  the  establishment  of  the  kingdom.  But  if  the 
two  men  started  together,  their  paths  soon  diverged.  The 
profounder  spirituality  of  Jesus  led  to  an  independence  of 
thought  and  teaching  which  overshadowed  and  obliterated 
the  work  of  the  older  man.  Jesus  himself  retained  the  deep- 
est respect  for  John,  though  he  came  to  regard  his  work  as 
preparatory  and  temporary  (Matt.  xi.  7-19).     The  defects  of 


340  THE   KINGDOM   OF  GOD. 

John's  teaching  will  be  apparent  from  the  statement  of  the 
characteristics  of  the  work  of  Jesus. 

The  movement  which  Jesus  began  was  distinctly  and  pre- 
dominatingly a  moral-spiritual  one.  From  all  his  utterances 
we  may  infer  that  he  held  the  one  need  of  the  times  to  be 
ethical  regeneration,  and  that  he  conceived  this  regeneration 
fiom  a  religious  point  of  view  as  resting  on  a  friendly  rela- 
tion of  the  soul  with  God.  From  the  beginning  to  the  end 
of  his  career,  he  insisted  almost  exclusively  on  sincere  love 
of  goodness  with  single-minded  regard  for  the  approbation 
of  the  heavenly  Father.  He  exposed  with  a  word  the  moral 
sophistries  of  the  scribes  ;  he  made  clear  the  distinction  be- 
tween the  ethical  and  the  ceremonial ;  he  denounced  hy- 
pocrisy and  time-serving ;  he  pointed  out  the  weakness  of 
imperfect  moral  principle,  and  he  held  up  to  view  those 
fundamental  prniciples  which  were  capable  of  deciding  all 
moral  questions  over  against  the  perversions  of  custom  and 
casuistry  and  the  feebleness  of  the  human  heart.  His  eth- 
ical teaching  may  be  regarded  as  summed  up  in  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount ;  and  the  Sermon  consists  of  ethical -religious 
thought  pervaded  by  the  sentiment  of  loyalty  toward  God, 
or  rather  of  perfect  trust  in  him  and  communion  with  him. 
If  a  man  so  live,  says  Jesus,  he  shall  be  cared  for  by  the 
heavenly  Father  in  this  world  and  the  next :  "  Seek  ye  first 
his  kingdom  and  his  righteousness ;  and  all  these  things  shall 
be  added  "  (Matt.  vi.  33).  Jesus  regarded  the  essence  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  as  consisting  in  the  moral-spirituol  life. 
He  differed  from  John  in  the  emphasis  which  he  laid  on 
the  inner  life,  on  complete  oneness  of  spirit  with  God,  out 
of  which  naturally  flowed  the  outward  manifestation  of  good 
works.  This  combination  of  the  outward  life  with  the  in- 
ward spirit  is  ultimately  the  same  with  Paul's  conjunction 
of  faith  and  works,  and  with  the  concejition  in  the  Fourth 
Gospel  of  regeneration  of  soul  whereby  one  enters  into  the 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  341 

kingdom  of  light.  Only  the  idea  of  Jesus  is  simpler  than 
the  others.  He  speaks  of  no  theological  or  other  unusual 
revolution,  but  only  of  a  new  attitude  of  soul  into  which 
the  man  comes  by  his  own  decision. 

We  are  not  here  concerned,  however,  with  the  details  of 
Jesus'  ethical-spiritual  teaching.  The  point  of  interest  is 
to  note  that  it  is  the  summing-up  of  all  that  we  find  in 
Old  Testament  and  New  Testament.  The  prophets  had  an- 
nounced the  moral  basis  of  the  true  Israel,  and  the  Epistles 
portray  the  high  ethical  life  as  the  fundamental  character- 
istic of  the  Church.  In  a  few  words  Jesus  has  comprised 
all  that  is  essential  in  moral  principle,  and  held  it  up  as  the 
one  necessary  condition  of  perfected  human  society.  Even 
where  he  does  not  offer  direct  solutions  of  social-moral  ques- 
tions which  have  arisen  since  his  time,  he  furnishes  the  prin- 
ciples which  contain  the  solution.  His  teaching  stands  apart 
from  the  political  and  ecclesiastical  relations  which  we  find 
elsewhere  in  the  Bible.  This  last  point,  though  hardly  a  fun- 
damental one,  may  be  exhibited  a  little  more  in  detail. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  political  element  is  prom- 
inent in  all  pictures  of  the  kingdom  of  God  in  the  Jewish 
literature  from  Daniel  to  the  end  of  the  first  century  of 
our  era.  The  nation  was  conceived  of  as  a  political  unit, 
and  nothing  but  the  maintenance  of  its  political  life  was 
dreamed  of.  The  Messiah,  it  was  held,  would  rule  over  a 
nation  happy  in  freedom  and  prosperity  ;  and,  according  to 
one  view,  it  was  he  who  should  hold  the  final  judgment 
which  was  to  settle  the  destiny  of  all  things.  It  is  a  fair 
question  whether  or  how  far  Jesus  sympathized  with  this 
circle  of  ideas ;  and  the  records  of  his  life,  though  not  free 
from  the  coloring  of  later  generations,  seem  to  yield  a  prob- 
able answer.  As  a  Jew  and  a  man  of  his  times  we  should 
expect  him  to  share  the  Messianic  opinions  of  his  people, 
and  there  are  indications  that  this  he  did  in  certain  points. 


342  THE   KINGDOM   OF    GOD. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  evident  from  his  words  (taking 
only  those  that  are  commonly  agreed  to  belong  to  him)  and 
from  the  historical  outcome  of  his  work  that  he  stood  above 
his  times  in  the  sense  that  he  recognized  and  organized  the 
best  elements  of  the  world's  current  thought.  If  he  did  this 
in  the  sphere  of  pure  morals  and  religion,  it  is  quite  possi- 
ble that  he  avoided  the  grosser  part  of  the  Jewish  national 
Messianic  faith,  and  isolated  and  gave  life  to  its  essential 
spiritual  core;  and  this  is  the  conclusion  to  which  several 
sets  of  facts  seem  to  point.  In  the  first  place,  as  is  re- 
marked above,  his  teaching,  according  to  the  records,  is  pre- 
dominatingly ethical-spiritual.  The  impression  made  on  us 
is  that  it  was  this  side  of  life  that  most  deeply  interested 
him.  He  is  intensely  concerned  to  stimulate  men  to  moral- 
spiritual  broadness  and  strenuousness.  Such  overweening  in- 
terest in  the  higher  aspects  of  the  individual  and  the  national 
life  might  be  expected  to  carry  with  it  indifference  to  the 
lower.  This  is,  however,  only  a  presumption,  not  a  conclu- 
sive argument.  It  is  conceivable  that  along  with  this  ex- 
alted conception  of  human  capacity  and  function  he  might 
have  held  to  the  current  view  of  the  national  deliverance. 
But  we  have  from  him,  further,  some  tolerably  specific  utter- 
ances on  this  point,  especially  in  a  series  of  sayings  con- 
tained in  ]\Iark  x.  (and  Matt.  xix.  xx.).  These  are,  indeed, 
not  entirely  accordant  one  with  another,  and  their  precise 
meaning  is  not  in  all  cases  plain  ;  but  their  general  drift 
may  be  recognized.  He  declares  that  the  kingdom  of  God 
must  be  received,  not  with  warlike  ardor,  but  with  the 
docility  of  a  little  child.  Wealthy  adherents  are  usually 
welcomed  by  a  political  leader;  but  he  simply  says  in  an 
indifferent  tone  that  it  is  very  hard  for  a  rich  man  to  en- 
ter the  kingdom  of  God.  Exactly  what  is  meant  by  the 
saying  attributed  to  him,  that  those  who  had  made  sacrifices 
in  his  cause  should  be  amply  compensated  with  friends  and 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  343 

worldly  possessions,  it  is  not  easy  to  decide,  especially  as 
persecution  is  included  in  the  list  of  things  to  be  expected, 
and  the  "  present  time "  is  distinguished  from  the  "  coming 
age,"  in  which  everlasting  life  is  to  be  the  portion  of  the 
faithful ;  but,  in  any  case,  it  seems  to  be  not  a  political 
reward  of  which  he  is  speaking.  Finally,  he  declares  that 
eminence  among  his  followers  is  to  be  of  a  character  wholly 
distinct  from  that  of  ordinary  civil  lordship,  its  condition 
being  humility  and  service.  It  is  true  tliat  there  are  other 
reported  sayings  of  different  import,  particularly  Matt.  xix. 
28,  where  it  is  promised  that,  when  in  the  new  order  of 
things  (the  "palingenesis")  the  Son  of  Man  should  be  en- 
throned as  king,^  the  twelve  disciples  should  exercise  a  quasi- 
regal  judgeship  over  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel.  But  this  is 
so  distinctly  contradictory  in  spirit  of  that  other  saying,  "To 
sit  on  my  right  hand  and  on  my  left  is  not  mine  to  give" 
(Matt.  XX.  23  ;  Mark  x.  40),  that  it  may  reasonably  be  re- 
garded as  a  gloss  or  interpretation  put  into  the  mouth  of 
Jesus  by  a  writer  who  did  not  understand  his  words.  Ee- 
wards  in  this  life  he  may  have  promised ;  but  they  seem  to 
be  not  the  gifts  of  a  worldly  king,  but  the  favors  which 
(as  in  ]\Iatt.  vi.  33,  and  in  the  Old  Testament)  God  bestows 
on  them  that  trust  in  him. 

The  public  entry  into  Jerusalem,  though  apparently  sug- 
gested by  the  word  of  the  prophet  Zechariah,  "  Thy  king 
comes  to  thee,"  etc.  (Zech.  ix.  9),  was  obviously  not  meant 
by  Jesus  to  have  political  significance.  It  was  intended  as 
an  assertion  of  his  Messianic  office,  and  he  followed  it  up 
by  entering  the  temple  and  driving  out  the  money-changers, 

1  The  same  phrase  occurs  in  Enoch  xlv.  3,  in  the  description  of  the  judg- 
ment which  is  to  usher  in  the  final  period  of  blessedness.  The  expression 
was  probably  familiar  to  Jesus  and  his  disciples  as  part  of  a  current  concep- 
tion of  the  Messiah.  The  question  is  whether  it  is  likely,  from  the  testimony 
of  the  documents,  that  Jesus  employed  it  of  himself.  To  the  generation  that 
followed  him  such  employment  would  seem  perfectly  natural. 


344  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

a  procedure  in  which  he  acted  not  as  king  but  as  prophet. 
It  is  quite  possible  that  the  people  had  another  idea,  and 
thought  of  him  as  a  political  leader  (Mark  xi.  8-10  ;  xv. 
1-20;  cf.  John  vi.  15).  But  he  gave  no  encouragement  to 
such  a  scheme.  To  the  very  end  he  held  aloof  from  the 
employment  of  physical  force.  When  Judas  came  to  seize 
him,  one  of  Jesus'  friends  drew  a  sword  and  struck  the 
slave  of  the  high-priest ;  but  this  was  his  own  act,  and  had 
no  consequences. 

It  seems  clear,  also,  that  he  was  looked  on  by  the  authori- 
ties, both  Roman  and  Jewish,  as  politically  unimportant.  It 
was  a  restless,  excitable  time.  There  had  been  several  up- 
risings (Acts  V.  36,  37),  and  the  Romans  would  be  ready 
enough  to  take  note  of  signs  of  revolt ;  but  Pilate,  who  was 
not  slow  to  employ  military  force,  treated  Jesus  as  a  harm- 
less enthusiast,  and  with  easy  indifference  ordered  his  exe- 
cution as  a  convenient  means  of  pleasing  the  multitude,  with 
whom  he  was  not  in  good  odor.  The  Pharisees  also  appear 
to  have  feared  him,  not  as  a  political  Messiah,  but  as  an 
enemy  of  the  Mosaic  law  (which  they  believed  to  be  essen- 
tial to  the  true  life  of  the  nation)  and  of  the  order  of  things 
from  which  they  derived  their  consideration.  An  attempt 
was  made  by  the  Pharisees  and  the  Herodians  to  entrap  him 
into  an  expression  of  disloyalty  to  the  Roman  government. 
We  know,  said  they,  that  you  are  concerned  only  for  God's 
truth.  Is  it  lawful  to  pay  tribute  to  the  Roman  government 
or  not?  It  was  the  burning  question  of  the  time.  Should 
the  Jews  acknowledge  this  foreign  domination,  or  should 
they  rise  in  revolt  against  it  ?  Jesus,  it  is  true,  knew  that 
these  men  were  not  friendly  to  him,  and  only  wished  an 
opportunity  to  catch  him.  If  he  had  had  political  designs 
he  prol)ably  would  not  have  expressed  them  on  this  occa- 
sion ;  but  his  answer,  though  entirely  non-committal  in  form, 
could  only  be  understood  as  recognizing  the  lawfulness  of 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD.  345 

obedience  to  the  existing  government.  He  pointed  to  the 
emperor's  image  on  a  coin,  and  declared  that  it  was  right 
to  render  to  the  Eoman  government  and  to  God  the  obe- 
dience which  was  the  due  of  each.  This  is  the  tone  of  a 
man  who  wished  to  hold  himself  aloof  from  political  com- 
plications. After  his  death  his  disciples  occupied  the  same 
position.  Their  presence  in  Jerusalem  gave  neither  Eomans 
nor  Jews  anxiety  on  political  grounds.  There  is  no  sign  of 
political  hopes  or  schemes  among  his  followers  in  Jerusalem 
or  elsewhere.  The  natural  explanation  of  this  is  that  he 
gave  no  ground  for  such  hopes  in  his  teaching ;  that  he 
taught  only  the  moral  regeneration  of  society  through  the 
announcement  of  ethical-spiritual  truth. 

It  is  harder  to  decide  whether  he  intended  his  teaching 
to  be  limited  to  the  Jews  ;  that  is,  whether,  in  harmony 
with  the  old  prophets  and  the  body  of  the  later  literature, 
he  regarded  the  Jewish  nation  as  the  necessary  intermediary 
between  God  and  the  rest  of  the  world.  Something  like  this 
we  should  naturally  infer  from  the  story  of  the  Syrophoe- 
nician  woman  (Mark  vii.  27),  to  whom  he  is  reported  as 
saying  that  it  was  not  meet  to  take  the  children's  bread  and 
cast  it  to  the  dogs.  In  the  First  Gospel,  when  the  twelve 
disciples  are  sent  out  to  teach,  they  are  charged  not  to  go 
to  Gentiles  or  Samaritans,  but  only  to  Jews  (Matt.  x.  5,  6) ; 
but  this  limitation  is  not  found  in  Mark  or  Luke,  and  we 
may  suspect  that  it  is  the  addition  of  a  Judaizing  editor. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  seems  not  to  have  confined  himself 
to  Jewish  territory,  but  went  wherever  he  had  opportunity 
(Mark  vii.  24,  31).  The  baptismal  commission,  indeed,  con- 
taining the  command  to  preach  to  all  the  nations,  does  not 
belong  to  his  teaching  proper,  but  represents  the  idea  of  the 
succeeding  generation.  Of  the  same  nature,  perhaps,  is  the 
saying  reported  in  the  First  Gospel,, that  many  should  come 
from  the  east  and  the  west  to  sit  down  with  Abraham,  Isaac, 


346  THE   KINGDOM  OF  GOD. 

and  Jacob,  while  the  sons  of  the  kingdom  should  be  cast 
forth  (Matt.  viii.  11,  12)  ;  yet  this  may  be  interpreted  as 
meaning,  in  the  sense  of  the  old  prophets,  that  members  of 
other  peoples  should  accept  the  instruction  of  Israel,  while 
a  portion  of  the  chosen  nation  should  be  rejected.  And 
here,  probably,  we  find  a  suggestion  of  Jesus'  position  on 
this  point.  His  mind  filled  with  the  prophetic  thought, 
which  conceived  of  Israel  as  the  centre  of  enlightenment 
for  the  world,  it  would  be  natural  for  him  to  regard  Jewish 
territory  as  the  starting-point  for  the  religious  reconstruction 
of  society.  Such  was  the  view  of  the  Old  Testament  and 
of  the  succeeding  literature.  Salvation  was  held  to  be  of 
the  Jews  (John  iv.  22) ,  only  through  the  Jewish  nation 
as  intermediary  was  it  thought  possible  that  other  nations 
could  obtain  the  knowledge  of  saving  truth.  Such  an  opin- 
ion all  the  conditions  of  his  training  would  lead  him  to 
hold  ;  and  that  this  was  really  his  view  may  with  some 
probability  be  inferred  from  the  position  of  the  disciples 
just  after  his  death,  among  whom  the  idea  of  preaching 
directly  to  the  Gentiles  did  not  easily  find  entrance.  If 
he  had  expressed  himself  in  a  universal  way,  if  he  had 
habitually  or  often  spoken  of  the  immediate  appeal  to  the 
non- Jewish  world,  these  men  who  had  been  for  several 
years  in  intimate  association  with  him  would  have  caught 
some  of  this  spirit.  Their  Jewish  prejudice  was  no  doubt 
at  the  beginning  intense  ;  but  it  would  have  yielded  to  re- 
peated instructions  on  the  part  of  the  Master  whom  they 
revered  as  a  heaven-sent  prophet.  At  the  outset  they  showed 
not  the  slightest  trace  of  any  such  idea.  It  was  Paul,  the 
man  who  had  had  no  association  with  Jesus,  and  in  his 
writings  almost  ignores  his  life  and  teaching,  who  com- 
pletely idealized  the  person  of  Jesus  from  a  theological 
point  of  view,  —  it  was  tliis  outsider,  as  he  may  be  called, 
who  conceived  and  carried  out  the  idea  that  the  announce- 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  347 

meiit  of  the  Gospel  to  the  Gentile  world  was  to  be  made 
a  direct  object  of  eftbrt.  This  idea  he  seems  not  to  have 
got  from  Jesus. 

Yet  it  is  conceivable  that  the  Master  chose  not  to  bur- 
den his  disciples  with  instructions  for  the  far  future,  hold- 
ing that  his  immediate  mission  was  to  Israel.  We  must 
believe,  indeed,  that  he  expected  the  ultimate  complete  tri- 
umph of  the  kingdom  of  God  :  such  is  the  teaching  of  the 
prophets.  But  whether  he  looked  to  a  gradual  process  of 
moral  leavening  by  the  proclamation  of  the  truth,  or  to  a 
physical  divine  intervention,  which  should  coerce  alien  na- 
tions, this  we  have  no  means  of  determining  with  absolute 
certainty.  AYe  can  only  say  that  if  he  conceived  of  the  uni- 
versality of  the  Gospel  in  the  Pauline  sense,  it  is  strange 
that  they  so  completely  misunderstood  him,  and  that  it 
afterward  required  so  long  and  hard  a  struggle  to  establish 
this  idea  in  the  Church.  It  seems  more  probable  that  his 
conception  of  direct  reformatory  work  was  limited  to  the 
Jewish  nation. 

It  is  in  harmony  with  this  statement  of  his  position  that 
he  attempted  no  separate  organization  of  his  disciples.  He 
preached  to  the  multitudes  wherever  he  had  opportunity, 
and  welcomed  all  who  came  to  him  with  serious  purpose. 
He  selected  a  few  of  the  more  receptive  and  earnest,  and 
attached  them  closely  to  his  person.  There  is  no  sign  of 
real  distinction  between  esoteric  and  exoteric  teaching  in 
his  life ;  ^  but  his  intercourse  with  the  inner  circle  of  dis- 

1  Such  a  distinction  seems,  indeed,  to  be  affirmed  in  Mark  iv.  11,  Matt, 
xiii.  11  ,  but  the  "mystery"  which  is  there  subsequently  expounded  is  not 
remarkable  either  morally-religiously  or  historically.  That  is,  the  ethical  part 
of  the  explanation  of  the  parables  does  not  differ  in  spirit  and  content  from 
other  sayings  (as  tlie  Sermon  on  the  Mount)  which  appear  to  have  been 
addressed  to  the  people  at  large  ,  and  what  relates  to  tlie  gradual  develop- 
ment and  final  establishment  of  the  kingdom  of  God  was  neither  difficult  to 
understand  nor  strange  to  the  current  ideas  of  the  time.  There  is  a  differ- 
ence between  the  reports  of  this  group  of  parables  in  Mark  and  in  Matthew; 


348  THE   KINGDOM  OF   GOD. 

ciples  was  naturally  freer  and  fuller  than  with  the  others, 
and  to  them,  we  may  suppose,  he  confided  more  of  tlie  con- 
tent and  spirit  of  his  doctrine.  They  all  remained  simply 
members  of  the  Jewish  people,  professing  faith  in  j\loses 
and  practising  all  the  requirements  of  the  Law.  He  never 
spoke  of  his  disciples  as  forming  a  sect  or  party,  never  estab- 
lished separate  .synagogues  nor  held  separate  religious  meet- 
ings, never  appointed  officers  nor  suggested  that  they  be 
thereafter  appointed.  After  his  death,  the  disciples  were 
gradually  forced  into  a  separate  organization ;  but  the  book 
of  Acts  gives  no  hint  that  they  derived  the  details  or  the 
idea  itself  from  him.  The  word  "  church  '  does  indeed  occur 
twice  in  the  First  Gospel,  but  in  passages  which  appear  to 
be  later  additions.  The  declaration  that  the  Church  is  to 
be  founded  on  Peter  (Matt.  xvi.  18)  is  not  given  in  any  of 
the  other  Gospels,  and  appears  to  be  an  insertion  introduced 
for  the  purpose  of  exalting  the  authority  of  Peter,  It  is 
not  quite  in  accord  with  Jesus'  attitude  toward  Peter  else- 
where in  the  Gospels.  The  provision  made  for  dealing  with 
a  perverse  brother  (Matt,  xviii,  17),  who,  if  he  refuse  to  lis- 
ten to  the  Church,  is  to  be  treated  as  a  heathen  and  a  pub- 
lican, stands  so  completely  isolated,  and  is  so  much  out  of 
harmony  with  other  teachings  of  Jesus,  that  it  also  may  be 
regarded  as  the  insertion  of  a  succeeding  generation.  It  is 
noteworthy  that  the  Synoptic  Gospels  have  nothing  to  say 
of  baptism  in  the  ministry  of  Jesus.  He  himself  is  said  to 
have  been  baptized  by  John  ;  but  there  is  no  mention  of 
the  ceremony's  having  been  performed  by  himself  or  by  his 
disciples,  and  in  the  Fourth  Gospel  (John  iv.  2)  it  is  said 
that  Jesus  himself  did  not  baptize,  but  left  this  work  to  his 

Mark  is  sini])ly  ethical,  Mattliow  l.irc;cly  osrliatoloo;ical.  But  even  suoli  a 
parable  as  that  of  tlio  tares  (Matt.  xiii.  '24-."K),  37-4.'3,  which  looks  like  an 
cschatological  recension  of  Mark  iv  26-29)  finds  a  parallel  in  Enoch  xlv.-liv. 
Jesus  appears  to  have  spoken  freely  to  the  peo])le  on  the  hic:hest  thinsjs,  and 
his  parables  are  said  (Mark  xii.  12)  to  have  been  intelligible  to  the  Tharisees. 


THE   KINGDOM  OF   GOD.  349 

disciples.  Considering  the  importance  which  was  afterward 
attached  to  this  ceremony  as  the  rite  introductory  to  mem- 
bership in  a  church  (the  fact  embodied  in  the  baptismal 
commission,  Matt,  xxviii.  19),  it  is  strange  that  it  should  be 
entirely  ignored  by  the  Synoptics  if  Jesus  had  really  thought 
of  establishing  a  new  ecclesiastical  organization,  initiation 
into  which  was  announced  by  the  ceremony  of  baptism.  We 
have  to  conclude  that  he  looked  to  a  reformation  within 
the  body  of  Judaism,  whence  other  nations  were  to  be  ulti- 
mately won  over.  He  had  faith,  it  would  seem,  in  the  pos- 
sibilities of  the  Jewish  nation.  It  would  be  hard  to  surmise 
what  the  result  would  have  been  if  his  disciples  had  con- 
tinued his  work  in  his  spirit.  Such  was  not  to  be  the  case. 
The  increasing  prominence  given  to  the  spiritual  and  non- 
nomistic  elements  of  his  teaching,  and  the  conversion  of 
Gentiles  who  had  no  sympathy  with  the  Jewish  national 
feeling,  forced  his  disciples  to  assume  an  independent  posi- 
tion. If  they  had  remained  simply  members  of  the  Jewish 
nation,  they  might  have  done  much  in  the  way  of  moral- 
spiritual  reform  ;  but  it  is,  to  say  the  least,  very  doubtful 
whether  Judaism  could  ever  have  been  fashioned  into  an 
instrument  for  reconstructing  the  world.  National  particu- 
larism was  too  deeply  ingrained  in  the  Jewish  life  to  permit 
the  emergence  of  a  purely  religious  principle  of  universal 
character.  It  was  necessary  that  the  spiritual  should  be  vio- 
lently severed  from  the  national-ceremonial ;  and  this  was 
effected,  not  by  Jesus  himself,  but  by  the  course  of  events 
after  his  death.  He  announced  the  spirit  and  the  ethical 
content  of  a  new  world-religion  ;  it  was  left  to  later  needs, 
embodied  chiefly  in  the  person  of  Paul,  to  isolate  this  spirit 
and  this  content  from  local-national  life,  and  so  to  fix  it  in 
a  theological  framework  and  an  ecclesiastical  organization 
that  it  might  commend  itself  to  all  the  world.  But  whether 
Jesus  contemplated  a  Church  is  a  question  of  secondary  in- 


350  THE   KINGDOM   OF  GOD. 

terest ;  the  main  thing  is  that  he  laid  hold  of  the  highest 
ethical-spiritual  thought,  extricated  it  from  disturbing  for- 
malities, and  clothed  it  with  a  powerful  spirit  of  conse- 
cration to  God  and  to  humanity.  Out  of  this  the  Church 
naturally  sprang. 

If,  then,  Jesus  did  not  contemplate  a  political  kingdom, 
and  did  not  attempt  to  form  an  ecclesiastical  organization, 
what  was  his  conception  of  the  final  outcome  of  his  move- 
ment ?  And  first,  what  was  his  conception  of  his  own  posi- 
tion ?  Did  he  regard  himself  as  the  promised  Messiah  ?  and 
if  so,  what  was  the  function  which  he  assigned  himself  ? 
That  the  people  and  the  disciples  looked  on  him  as  the 
Messiah  may  be  inferred  from  a  number  of  incidents  given 
in  the  Mark-Gospel  (Bartima.^us,  the  public  entry,  the  trial, 
X.  xi.  xiv.),  and  from  the  testimony  of  the  two  men  in 
Luke  xxiv.  He  made  no  protest  against  this  assumption, 
and  is  said  (Mark  xiv.  G2)  to  have  answered  with  a  decided 
affirmative  when  officially  asked  by  the  high-priest  if  he 
laid  claim  to  such  a  character.  According  to  the  Synoptics 
(Mark  viii.  29 ;  Matt.  xvi.  17 ;  Luke  ix.  20),  he  did  at  a  cer- 
tain point  in  his  career  definitely  announce  himself  to  his 
disciples  as  the  Christ.  He  first  asked  them  as  to  the  cur- 
rent opinions  about  him.  They  repHed  that  some  held  him 
to  be  John  the  Baptist,  some  Elijah,  and  others  Jeremiah 
or  one  of  the  prophets  :  whence  we  may  infer  that  his  per- 
son and  work  had  produced  a  great  impression  on  the  pop- 
ular imagination,  so  that  he  was  taken  to  be  some  important 
personage,  but  not  the  Messiah.  His  bearing  did  not  cor- 
respond to  the  popular  conception  of  the  great  deliverer. 
When  he  turned  to  the  disciples  and  asked  whom  they  took 
him  to  be,  Peter,  apparently  acting  as  spokesman  for  all, 
answered  that  he  was  the  Christ.  Jesus  accepted  the  an- 
swer, charged  them  that  they  should  tell  no  one,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  oj^en  their  eyes  to  the  fate  which  awaited  him. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  351 

He  was  to  be  rejected,  he  said,  by  the  leaders  of  the  people, 
and  finally  to  be  pu_t  to  death.  Such  a  communication  was 
naturally  surprising  to  these  men,  and  Peter  began  a  violent 
protest  against  such  a  Messianic  scheme ;  but  his  outbreak 
was  sternly  repressed  by  Jesus,  who  pointed  out  that  Peter 
spoke  from  an  earthly  point  of  view,  and  from  ignorance  of 
the  true  nature  and  demands  of  the  new  dispensation. 

There  seems  to  be  no  reason  why  we  should  not  accept 
this  narrative  as  giving  substantially  Jesus'  final  view  of  his 
own  career.  Whether  or  not  this  particular  incident  hap- 
pened just  as  it  is  reported,  it  doubtless  presents  the  gist 
of  what  the  Master  said  at  various  times.  From  it  we  may 
conclude  that  there  was  a  definite  moment  when  he  was 
formally  recognized  by  his  disciples  and  by  himself  as  the 
promised  jNIessiah,  and  when  at  the  same  time  he  felt  that 
his  construction  of  the  Messianic  mission  was  very  differ- 
ent from  that  which  prevailed  among  the  Jewish  people  of 
all  classes.  We  should  also  naturally  infer  that  previous 
to  the  announcement  at  Ctesarea  Philippi  nothing  had  been 
said  of  a  Messianic  claim  on  his  part.  Either  he  had  made 
no  such  claim  even  in  his  own  mind,  or,  holding  himself 
to  be  the  j\lessiah,  had  remained  silent  till  the  disciples 
should  be  able  through  his  instructions  to  receive  the  sur- 
prising and  revolutionary  announcement  which  he  had  to 
make.  The  former  supposition  seems  the  more  probable. 
He  is  represented  as  always  speaking  very  freely  to  his  dis- 
ciples ;  and  it  does  not  appear  why  he  should  have  kept 
back  the  statement  of  his  claim.  It  could  not  have  been 
in  order  to  wait  till  they  were  ready,  for  when  he  at  last 
spoke  they  were  utterly  unprepared  for  the  idea  of  the  Mes- 
sianic work  which  he  announced.  Further,  in  the  accounts 
of  his  ministry  preceding  the  incident  at  Cffisarea  Philippi, 
he  is  represented  as  a  teacher  and  healer ;  and  there  is  no 
indication  that  he  thought  of  himself  otherwise  than  as  a 


352  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

moral-religious  reformer.  The  probability  is.  then,  that  he 
came  gradually  to  think  of  himself  as  the  deliverer  prom- 
ised by  the  prophets.  His  meditation  on  the  promises  of 
the  Old  Testament  and  on  the  existing  moral-religious  lacks 
of  the  nation,  combined  with  his  consciousness  of  spiritual 
insight,  with  the  conviction  that  he  had  laid  hold  of  the 
great  life-giving  principles  of  religion,  might  lead  him  to 
believe  that  God  had  chosen  him  to  initiate  the  new  era 
of  spiritual  purity  and  salvation.  His  retiection  would  also 
lead  him  to  see  that  the  role  of  the  deliverer  could  not  be 
one  of  physical  force ;  and  above  all,  the  portraiture  of  the 
servant  of  Yahwe  in  Isa.  liii.,  where  the  path  to  triumph 
leads  through  suffering  and  death,  might  have  forced  on 
him  the  conviction  that  such  was  to  be  the  nature  of  his 
career.  After  a  while,  indeed,  his  own  surroundings  would 
suggest  something  of  this  sort.  The  hostility  of  the  re- 
ligious leaders  of  the  people  became  constantly  more  pro- 
nounced and  more  bitter,  and  he  knew  that  if  he  remained 
faithful  to  his  convictions  he  should  antagonize  the  repre- 
sentatives of  Mosaic  orthodoxy  more  and  more.  He  would 
come  to  feel  that  there  was  a  profound  and  irreconcilable 
antagonism  between  his  spirit  and  the  spirit  of  the  times. 
Such  a  feeling  he  more  than  once  expressed  (Mark  viii.  31 ; 
ix.  12  ;  X.  45). 

It  is  doubtful  in  what  light  he  looked  on  his  own  death, 
—  what  significance  he  attached  to  it.  The  fifty-third  chap- 
ter of  Isaiah  represents  the  death  of  the  servant  of  Yahwe 
as  vicarious  and  expiatory  in  the  general  sense  that  God 
accepts  the  life  of  his  pure  and  perfect  servant  in  lieu  of 
the  punishment  which  would  naturally  fall  on  his  erring 
people.  Such  may  have  been  the  view  of  Jesus  ;  such  is 
the  general  meaning  of  his  declaration  (Mark  x.  45)  that 
he  came  to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many.  He  had  a 
lofty  consciousness  of  power  ;  he  may  have  felt  that  the 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  353 

sacrifice  of  his  life  was  an  essential  step  toward  the  estab- 
lishment of  his  doctrine.  But  it  would  be  only  in  a  gen- 
eral sense  that  he  would  regard  his  death  as  expiatory,  — 
the  sense  in  which  suffering  in  general  is  looked  on  in  the 
Old  Testament  as  an  atonement  (as  in  Isa.  xl.  2) ;  and  from 
the  meagreness  of  the  data,  we  must  remain  in  doubt  as  to 
the  precise  nature  of  this  feeling.  The  saying  quoted  above 
is  the  only  one  given  in  the  Gospel  of  Mark  in  which  he 
refers  to  this  point.  In  the  connection  he  is  speaking  only 
of  service  as  the  mark  of  greatness  for  his  disciples  ;  and 
he  adds,  in  order  to  set  them  an  example,  that  he  himself 
came  not  to  be  ministered  to,  but  to  minister.  The  con- 
cluding clause,  "  and  to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many," 
is  not  quite  in  the  line  of  the  preceding  remarks.  It  may 
have  been  uttered  by  him  as  the  expression  of  the  cul- 
mination of  his  ministry,  or  it  may  have  been  added  at  a 
later  time,  when  the  belief  in  the  expiatory  character  of 
his  death  had  become  fixed.  No  such  view  is  hinted  at 
in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  If  Jesus  really  held  it,  it 
did  not  belong  to  his  earlier  teaching,  but  was  reached  by 
his  later  reflection  called  forth  by  the  continually  thicken- 
ing dangers  that  surrounded  him,  and  his  prevision  of  his 
tragic  end. 

Another  conception  of  his  mission  is  perhaps  given  by 
the  title  "Son  of  Man,"  by  which  he  preferred  to  desig- 
nate himself.  This  expression  occurs  first  in  the  book  of 
Ezekiel.  It  is  the  prophet's  standing  name  for  himself. 
The  Hebrew  term  means  simply  "  human  being ; "  and  the 
prophet's  purpose  seems  to  have  been  to  express  his  con- 
viction of  his  own  littleness  and  weakness  in  the  presence 
of  the  Almighty  Ood.  He  at  the  same  time  thus  sets  forth 
the  feebleness  of  humanity  in  general ;  but  his  primary  feel- 
ing apparently  was  that  he  himself,  called  by  God  to  an- 
nounce his  will,  was  in  himself  only  dust  and  nothingness 


354  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

and  entitled  to  recognition  only  as  tlie  messenger  and  mouth- 
piece of  the  Most  High.  In  Dan.  vii  13  the  "  Sou  of  Man  " 
means  (as  in  Ezekiel)  merely  humanity,  and  represents  the 
nation  Israel,  conceived  of  as  the  prophet  or  human  in- 
terpreter and  representative  of  God,  the  favored  bearer  of 
the  divine  truth,  and  inheritor  of  the  divine  blessing.  The 
nation,  or  rather  the  faithful  part  of  it,  is  thought  of  as 
morally  and  religiously  pure  ;  but  the  ethical  side  of  the 
picture  is  obscured  by  the  eschatological.  In  the  Enoch- 
Parables  it  is  a  title  of  the  Messiah,  doubtless  derived  from 
Ezekiel  and  Daniel,  especially  from  the  latter,  of  whose 
text  (Dan.  vii.)  the  description  in  Enoch  xlv.-xlviii.  is  an 
interpretation.  The  Aramaic  dialect,  which  was  probably 
the  language  of  Jesus  and  his  disciples,  employs  the  same 
expression  for  "  human  being."  Jesus  may  have  used  it  in 
the  moral  sense  which  Ezekiel  attaches  to  it,  —  to  repre- 
sent himself  as  the  envoy  and  spokesman  of  God,  by  whose 
authority  he  acted,  without  whose  aid  he  was  nothing.  It 
would  thus  be  the  expression  of  the  feeling  both  of  weak- 
ness and  of  power  :  of  weakness,  inasmuch  as  humanity  in 
itself  is  weak ;  of  power,  inasnnich  as  humanity  inspired 
by  God  is  strong.  Though  primarily  the  synonym  of  human 
impotency,  it  embodies  also  the  profound  sense  of  oneness 
with  God  and  the  appropriation  of  the  divine  potency.  It  is 
possible,  however,  that  it  had  become  at  this  time  (through 
Daniel  and  Enoch)  a  specific  and  technical  title  for  the  Mes- 
siah,^ and  that  Jesus  so  uses  it  of  himself.  In  that  case,  that 
it  is  put  into  liis  mouth  (Mark  ii.  10,  28)  before  his  declara- 
tion of  his  Messiahship  to  his  disciples  (Mark  viii.  27-30) 
may  be  explained  by  the  fact  that  it  later  became  a  familiar 
name  for  him,  and  might  be  proleptically  ascribed  to  him 

1  If  so,  it  would  have  a  peculiar  significance  in  sncli  utterances  as  Mark  ii. 
10,  28,  viii.  31,  which  might  then  be  regarded  as  defining  the  Messianic  func- 
tion in  general. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  355 

even  at  the  beginning.  The  content  of  the  term,  as  employed 
by  him,  must  of  course  be  defined,  not  simply  or  chiefly  by 
the  preceding  or  current  usage,  but  by  his  own  words. 

Thus  far  we  have  noticed  only  the  moral-spiritual  ele- 
ments of  Jesus'  consciousness  and  of  his  construction  of 
the  kingdom  of  God.  That  kingdom  he  conceived  to  be  pri- 
marily the  sincere  righteousness  of  the  soul  based  on  and 
identical  with  loving  trust  in  God  and  imitation  of  him. 
His  mission  on  earth  he  believed  to  be  the  announcement 
and  exemplification  of  the  new  moral-spiritual  order  of 
things.  The  forces  to  which  he  appealed  were  ethical  and 
religious  ;  the  consummation  to  which  he  looked  was  moral 
perfection.  What,  then,  was  his  conception  of  the  historical 
unfolding  and  completion  of  the  new  dispensation,  or  in 
other  words,  his  idea  of  the  destiny  of  the  world  ?  Did 
he  think  merely  of  a  gradual  development  of  society  under 
the  control  of  moral-religious  forces,  or  w^as  there  in  his 
view  an  historical  culmination  which  was  to  set  a  limit 
to  the  world's  moral  history?  And  if  there  were  such  a 
culmination,  did  he  think  of  it  as  far  off  or  near,  and  what 
position  therein  did  he  assign  himself  ?  If  we  are  to  follow 
the  Synoptics,  we  shall  have  to  believe  that  he  looked  for  a 
speedy  judgment,  whereby  he  himself,  invested  with  super- 
natural power,  should  usher  in  the  completed  and  ever- 
lasting kingdom  of  God.  According  to  this  view,  there  were 
two  stages  of  this  kingdom,  the  one  belonging  to  the  pres- 
ent, the  other  to  the  future.  These  are  elsewhere  in  the 
New  Testament  designated  as  "this  or  the  present  age  or 
world,"  and  "  the  age  or  world  to  come."  The  work  of  the 
present  age  would  then  be  considered  as  merely  preparatory, 
the  period  of  the  growing  crop;  the  future  judgment  was 
the  reaping,  when  the  wheat  should  be  separated  from  the 
tares,  and  perpetual  stability  guaranteed  to  the  society  of 
the  elect  servants  of  God.    This  conception  existed  in  the 


356  THE   KINGDOM  OF  GOD. 

time  of  Jesus,  for  it  is  found  in  Enoch  and  the  Sibyl,  and 
more  fully  in  the  New  Testament  Apocalypse.  It  is  given 
substantially  in  the  Second  Gospel  :  "  Whoever  shall  be 
ashamed  of  me  and  of  my  words  in  this  adulterous  and 
sinful  generation,  the  Son  of  Man  also  shall  be  ashamed 
of  him  when  he  comes  in  the  glory  of  his  Father  with  the 
holy  angels.  .  .  .  There  are  some  here  of  those  that  stand 
by  who  shall  in  no  wise  taste  of  death  till  they  see  the 
kingdom  of  God  come  with  power  "  (Mark  viii.  38  ;  ix.  1). 
The  necessary  inference  from  this  passage  would  be  that 
Jesus  expected  to  come  in  person,  attended  by  angels,  to  es- 
tablish the  new  dispensation  of  things  in  final  form.  The 
same  conclusion  would  follow  from  the  parable  of  judgment 
(Matt.  XXV.  31-46),  where  a  separation  is  made  between  the 
righteous  and  the  wicked  of  all  nations,  the  former  being 
sent  away  into  eternal  life,  the  latter  into  eternal  punish- 
ment. The  ground  of  distinction  between  the  two  classes  is 
devotion  to  the  person  of  the  judge,  only  this  devotion  is 
shown  by  care  for  his  people  in  this  world.  The  historical 
consummation  is  definite  and  permanent ;  the  fate  of  men 
is  decided  at  once  and  forever.  The  present  kingdom  of 
God  passes  into  the  everlasting  world  of  the  future,  and 
good  and  bad  moral  qualities,  with  their  retributions,  are 
permanently  fixed  without  possibility  of  change. 

It  is  difficult  to  decide  whether  Jesus  taught  this  doc- 
trine in  whole  or  in  part.  Though  it  certainly  docs  not  be- 
long to  the  same  stratum  of  thought  as  the  ethical  teaching 
of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  and  similar  passages,  it  does 
not  necessarily  exclude  such  ideas.^  The  conception  of  a 
final  judicial  determination  of  the  fate  of  men  has  been  held 
from  the  days  of  the  old  prophets  till  now,  in  conjunction 
with  the  recognition  of  individual  moral  development  and 
responsibility.     The  belief  in  a  divine  judgment  which  was 

1  A  juflgmeut  is  snggostctl  in  Matt.  vii.  22,  23. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF  GOD.  357 

to  close  the  existing  order  of  things  and  introduce  the  era 
of  Israel's  blessedness  was  well  established  in  the  first  cen- 
tury of  our  era.  It  is  found  in  Daniel,  Enoch,  the  Sibyl, 
Second  Maccabees,  and  the  Psalter  of  Solomon.  In  some 
of  these  writings,  as  we  have  seen,  it  is  God,  in  others  it 
is  the  Messiah,  that  is  to  be  the  judge.^  There  was  nothing 
in  the  intellectual  conditions  or  the  beliefs  of  the  time  to 
make  such  a  conception  of  himself  impossible  or  difficult 
for  a  great  ethical  teacher.  It  might  be  supposed  that  such 
an  one  would  then  have  to  think  of  himself  as  more  than 
human  ;  but  this  was  neither  necessary  nor  probable.  He 
might  be  chosen  and  his  name  called  by  God  before  the 
world  was  created ;  so  say  the  Enoch-Parables  (xlviii.  .3,  6) 
and  the  Talmud  (Ber.  Eab.  1).  Such  an  idea  was  suggested 
by  such  passages  as  Mic.  v.  2  (1),  Isa.  ix.  6  (5),  Ps.  Ixxii.  17. 
He  might  be  appointed  to  come  in  power  and  glory  to  judge 
the  world  (so  Enoch  and  the  Talmud).  But  God,  it  was 
held,  could  endow  a  prophet  with  such  powers  and  func- 
tions ;  and  Jewish  monotheistic  thought  seems  always  to 
have  conceived  of  the  Messiah  both  as  completely  subor- 
dinate to  the  Supreme  Being  and  as  an  Israelite  in  origin 
and  nature.  It  is  thus  in  itself  neither  impossible  nor  im- 
probable that  such  a  statement  as  that  of  Mark  viii.  38 
(that  the  Son  of  Man  should  come  in  the  glory  of  his  Father 
with  the  holy  angels)  should  represent  the  real  idea  of  Jesus. 
Even  the  declaration  of  the  next  verse  (Mark  ix.  1),  that 
this  glorious  coming  should  take  place  in  that  generation, 
cannot  be  said  to  be  impossible  for  him,  however  much  we 
may  feel  disposed  to  reject  it  as  out  of  accord  with  his  moral 

1  God  himself  is  judge  in  Mai.  iv.  (Tleh.  iii.  19-24),  Joel  iii.  {Heh.  iv.), 
Ps.  xcvi.  xcviii.,  Dan.  vii ,  Enoch  xc,  Sibyl  iii.  669  ff.,  56,  Psalms  of  Solo- 
mon, passim,  2  Mac.  vi.  vii. ;  the  Messiah  in  the  Enoch-parables  xlv.  li. 
Ixix.  The  latter  view  seems  thus  to  have  come  into  exi.stence  shortlv  before 
the  beginning  of  our  era.  The  Talmud  also  appears  in  some  passages  to 
regard  God,  in  others  the  Messiah,  as  the  judge.    Weber,  "  System,"  §  88. 


358  THE   KINGDOM  OF   GOD. 

elevation;  his  ethical  purity  and  greatness  are  independent 
of  all  such  local  opinions.  The  subsequent  history  of  his 
disciples  does  not  prevent  our  attributing  such  views  to  him. 
The  account  in  Luke  xxiv.  describes  their  expectations  only 
in  the  most  general  terms.  They  hoped  that  it  was  he  that 
should  redeem  Israel.  Their  conduct  after  his  death  shows 
that  they  were  at  first  grievously  disappointed  by  that  event, 
and  the  belief  that  he  would  speedily  appear  as  judge  seems 
to  have  been  general  in  the  first  century  (1  Thess.  iv.  15-17  ; 
1  Cor.  XV.  51,  52  ;  Jas.  v.  8  ;  1  Pet.  iv.  7).  How,  it  may  be 
asked,  can  we  account  for  these  statements  of  the  Gospels 
and  Epistles  except  on  the  supposition  that  they  rest  on  a 
true  tradition  of  liis  sayings  ?  It  may  be  supposed  that 
such  utterances  belong  to  the  latter  part  of  his  career.  Be- 
ginning, like  John,  simply  as  a  moral-religious  reformer  and 
proclaimer  of  the  coming  kingdom  of  God,  he  may,  as  his 
conviction  of  his  ]\Iessianic  character  became  stronger,  have 
appropriated  the  current  ideas  of  a  Messianic  judicial  parou- 
sia.  In  the  Gospels  the  discourses  dehvered  after  the  an- 
nouncement at  Csesarea  Philippi  have  a  decidedly  distincter 
eschatological  tone  than  those  which  precede. 

On  the  other  hand,  this  pronounced  tone  may  be  satisfac- 
torily accounted  for  by  the  supposition  that  utterances  of  the 
Master  of  a  general  character  were  afterward  interpreted,  ex- 
panded, and  colored  in  the  light  of  subsequent  events.  The 
date  at  which  our  present  Synoptic  Gospels  were  put  into 
shape  (after  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem)  was  late  enough 
to  allow  a  considerable  growth  of  legendary  material.  The 
person  of  Jesus  was  gradually  idealized.  At  first  prophet 
and  Jewish  Messiah  (Mark  viii.  ;  Luke  xxiv.),  lie  became 
the  Lord  (Jas.),  set  forth  by  his  resurrection  as  Son  of  God 
(Rom.  i.),  soon  to  come  as  judge  (2  Cor.  v.  10),  destined  to 
reign  in  heaven  till  all  his  enemies  should  be  subdued,  then 
to  deliver  up  his  delegated  authority  to  God  (1  Cor.  xv.  24- 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  359 

28).  If  such  a  conception  of  Jesus  had  become  general  in 
the  Church  by  the  year  70,  it  would  be  natural  that  it 
should  appear  in  the  Gospels.  The  pictures  of  his  royal 
and  judicial  functions  in  Epistles  and  Gospels  belong  to 
the  same  circle  of  ideas.  They  differ  in  certain  details,  but 
not  more  than  we  should  expect  from  the  diversities  of  dif- 
ferent sections  of  the  Church.  In  one  point  they  all  agree, 
—  that  the  coming  of  the  Lord  would  not  be  delayed.  The 
details  of  his  coming  might  have  been  supplied  from  cur- 
rent Jewish  ideas.  There  may  have  been  a  basis  in  his 
words  for  the  later  accounts.  He  may  have  spoken  of  a 
coming  age  of  blessedness,  which  he  as  Messiah  should  in- 
troduce, and  of  a  judgment  to  be  held  by  God.  Out  of  such 
material,  the  general  sense  of  which  would  remain  distinct 
in  the  memory  of  the  disciples,  the  later  tradition  might 
then  have  built  up  the  discourses  in  the  form  in  which  we 
now  have  them. 

To  many  persons  it  may  seem  that  the  atmosphere  of  the 
discourses  in  question  is  rather  that  of  the  Epistles  than  that 
of  the  life  of  the  Master  in  the  simplest  form  in  which  the 
Synoptics  give  it.  If  we  follow  him  along  the  line  of  his 
ethical-religious  teaching  from  the  beginning  till  his  death, 
we  have  a  picture  of  lofty  moral  simplicity  and  devotion 
which  may  appear  to  be  marred  by  the  introduction  of  these 
details  of  judgment.  The  moral-spiritual  orderliness  and  pro- 
found sobriety  of  his  ideas  would,  it  might  be  supposed,  put 
him  out  of  sympathy  with  the  mechanical  side  of  the  cur- 
rent conceptions  respecting  the  kingdom  of  righteousness. 
It  has  already  been  pointed  out  that  such  considerations  can- 
not be  decisive  from  either  the  historical  or  the  psychological 
point  of  view.  These  mechanical  conceptions  were  held  by 
his  contemporaries,  and  afterward  by  his  disciples,  and  may 
have  been  held  by  him.  It  does  not  seem  possible  to  de- 
termine from  our  data  whether  he  held  them  or  not.     The 


360  THE   KI^s'GDOM   OF   GOD. 

acceptance  of  such  ideas  carried  along  with  it  the  suppo- 
sition of  something  supernatural,  not  necessarily  in  the  per- 
son of  the  Messiah,  but  certainly  in  his  history.  This  also 
was  in  consonance  with  the  beliefs  of  the  age,  and  need  not 
have  been  repugnant  to  him.  In  tine,  tlie  opinions  of  that 
time  concerning  the  historical  setting  of  the  moral-spiritual 
kingdom  of  God  must  be  put  into  the  same  category  with 
the  opinions  respecting  the  material  of  what  we  call  the  sci- 
ences. Their  relation  to  moral  clearness  and  purity  was  of 
the  same  sort  as  that  of  the  current  ideas  of  geography, 
astronomy,  and  biblical  exegesis.  The  power  of  the  founder 
of  Christianity  was  in  his  moral  personality  and  his  con- 
ception of  a  thoroughly  spiritual  society,  just  as  the  power 
of  the  prophets  lay  in  tlie  religious  purity  of  their  ideas, 
in  spite  of  their  vain  hopes  of  political  sovereignty.  The 
local  setting  of  the  ideas  respecting  the  perfect  society  has 
changed  from  age  to  age  ;  the  moral  essence  remains.  The 
Church  of  to-day  has  given  up  the  special  historical  hope 
of  the  Church  of  the  first  century.  The  moral  spiritual 
teaching  of  Jesus,  resting  on  his  past  and  reflecting  the 
best  thought  of  his  contemporaries,  has  maintained  itself 
to  the  present  day  without  having  found  its  realization  in 
social  life. 

A  word  may  be  said  about  the  eschatological  discourses 
in  the  Synoptics  (Matt.  xxiv. ;  Mark  xiii. ;  Luke  xxi.),  which 
seem  to  give  a  date  for  the  final  consummation.  That  they 
were  not  delivered  by  Jesus  in  the  form  in  which  we  now 
have  them  may  probably  be  inferred  from  the  consideration 
already  mentioned,  —  that  the  disciples  for  some  time  after 
his  death  show  no  knowledge  of  their  contents.  The  occa- 
sion of  the  main  discourse  is  the  remark  of  Jesus  that  the 
temple  should  be  so  destroyed  that  not  one  stone  should 
be  left  on  another.  His  disciples  ask  when  that  should  be. 
Jesus  replies  by  giving  the  premonitory  signs  of  the  catas- 


THE   KINGDOM  OF  GOD.  361 

trophe  :  there  were  to  be  false  Christs,  wars  and  rumors 
of  wars,  earthquakes  and  fammes ;  his  followers  were  to  be 
persecuted,  and  his  gospel  was  to  be  preached  to  all  the 
nations.  The  sign  of  the  end  is  the  desecration  of  the  tem- 
ple ;  after  which  the  heavenly  bodies  should  be  darkened, 
and  then  the  Son  of  Man  would  come  in  clouds.  The  allu- 
sion to  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  by  the  Eomans  is  evi- 
dent ;  and  this  brief  apocalyptic  discourse  seems  to  have  been 
written  at  a  time  when  it  was  supposed  that  the  coming  of 
the  Lord  would  not  be  greatly  delayed  after  the  fall  of  the 
holy  city.  It  belongs  also,  we  may  infer,  to  the  period  when 
the  principle  that  the  gospel  was  to  be  preached  to  the  Gen- 
tiles had  been  widely  accepted,  —  a  conception  foreign  to  the 
thought  of  the  first  disciples.  It  is  also  to  be  noted  that 
the  redaction  of  the  discourse  in  Matthew  shows  certain  dif- 
ferences from  the  accounts  in_  Mark  and  Luke ;  and  though 
these  are  not  very  important,  they  suggest  the  work  of  dif- 
ferent hands. ^  It  is  possible  that  Jesus  said  something  about 
the  future,  —  some  brief  word  out  of  which  these  discourses 
were  expanded.  This  supposition  is,  indeed,  not  necessary  to 
account  for  their  existence.  It  was  a  time  of  apocalypses. 
Nothing  would  be  more  natural  than  that  some  disciple 
should  set  forth  his  idea  of  the  end,  and  should  put  it  into 
the  mouth  of  the  Master,  just  as  similar  predictions  had 
been  assigned  to  Daniel,  Enoch,  and  Moses.  It  was  not  lack 
of  reverence  for  these  men  that  led  writers  of  that  period 

1  Verse  20,  the  "  Sabbath "  indicates  an  observance  of  the  Jewish  cere- 
monial law ;  verses  26-28  are  minutely  descriptive  of  the  manner  of  the 
i^[essiah's  appearance  (and  at  the  same  time  give  hints  of  current  opinions 
as  to  the  place  at  which  he  would  siiow  himself);  verse  30,  "All  the  tribes 
of  the  earth  shall  mourn "  recalls  various  Old  Testament  passages,  such  as 
Amos  viii.  8  ;  ix.  5  ;  Hos.  iv.  3  ;  Jer.  iv.  28  ;  and  cf.  Sibyl  iii.  558,  "All  souls 
of  men  shall  deeply  sigh."  The  details  of  verses  37-51  differ  considerably 
from  the  corresponding  passages  in  Luke  and  Mark.  The  recension  of  Luke 
also  has  its  peculiarities  :  in  general  it  is  marked  by  more  literary  finish  and 
less  regard  for  details. 


362  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

to  make  them  mouthpieces  of  their  own  reflections.  On  the 
contrary,  the  desire  was  to  gain  the  authority  attaching  to 
their  names.  We  have,  in  all  probahility,  in  these  Synop- 
tical pieces,  opinions  of  a  later  generation.  It  must  be  left 
undecided  whether  and  how  far  the  discourses  are  built  up 
on  real  words  of  Jesus.  He  may  or  may  not  have  said  some- 
thing looking  to  a  temporal  definition  of  his  coming.^  In  any 
case,  the  present  form  of  the  discourses  seems  to  be  late. 

Little  need  be  said  of  the  succeeding  history,  during  the 
first  century,  of  the  Christian  conception  of  the  kingdom  of 
God.  It  was  soon  practically  absorbed  in  the  general  ad- 
vance of  Christian  life,  and  ceased  to  have  definite  influence. 
After  the  death  of  Jesus,  his  speedy  coming  was  looked  for- 
ward to  as  the  relief  from  present  suffering  and  the  in- 
troduction to  perfect  blessedness  (James  v.  7,  8).  A  more 
developed  view  of  the  parousia  is  given  in  the  Second  Epis- 
tle to  the  Thessalonians  (i.  6-10),  a  picture  which  agrees 
almost  exactly  with  that  of  the  Synoptics  :  the  Lord  Jesus 
is  to  be  revealed  from  heaven  in  flaming  fire,  rendering  ven- 
geance to  unbelievers  and  rest  to  the  saints.  Substantially 
the  same  conception  is  found  in  First  Corinthians  (xv.  23- 
28,  51-55).  The  succeeding  Epistles  of  Paul  have  less  defi- 
nite references  to  the  coming  of  Christ,  nor  is  it  elsewhere 
prominent  in  the  New  Testament  except  in  Second  Peter  and 
Eevelation.  Everywhere  it  is  looked  forward  to  as  deliv- 
erance from  the  present  distress,  and  is  used  as  the  occasion 
of  ethical  exhortation.  The  coming  of  the  Lord,  it  was  be- 
lieved, would  end  the  existing  dispensation,  and  introduce 
the  reign  of  the  saints.     But  meantime  life  went  on,  and 

1  The  statement  (giveu  in  Mark  and  Matthew,  Imt  not  in  Luke)  tliat  the 
day  of  the  coming  was  known  neither  to  angels  nor  to  Messiah,  but  only  to 
God,  is  ditficult,  since  the  rest  of  the  discourse  shows  accurate  knowledge 
of  the  time.  Such  a  statement  is  more  suitable  for  one  wiio,  looking  con 
fidently  for  an  impending  event,  is  uncertain  of  the  precise  day,  tlian  for  one 
who  is  making  a  definite  ])redi('tion  a  considerable  time  beforehand. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  363 

the  expectation  of  this  speedy  change  in  no  wise  led  to  a 
relaxation  of  moral  rules,  but  rather  incited  men  so  to  live 
that  the  Lord  at  his  coming  might  find  them  faithful 
and  worthy  to  be  members  of  his  righteous  kingdom.  The 
coming  of  the  kingdom  was  something  to  be  hoped  for 
and  prayed  for.  Every  day  the  petition  was  to  be  put  up, 
"  Thy  kingdom  come ; "  and  this  was  synonymous  with  the 
other  petition,  "  Thy  will  be  done."  Few  details  are  given 
in  the  New  Testament.  The  old  Israelitish  conception  of 
the  temporal  kingdom  of  Israel  passed  gradually  away; 
it  was  swallowed  up  in  the  larger  idea  of  the  redeemed 
people  of  the  kingdom  of  God  of  all  nations  ushered  into 
a  spiritual  blessedness  wliich  was  not  bounded  by  space 
or  time. 

There  were  attempts  in  the  first  century  to  define  with 
precision  the  time  of  the  second  coming  of  Christ.  We 
have  already  seen  that  the  great  apocalyptic  discourse  in 
the  Synoptics  looks  to  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  by  the 
Romans  as  the  turning-point  in  the  history  of  the  world. 
This  discourse  must  have  been  composed  or  finally  redacted 
about  the  time  of  the  fall  of  the  holy  city.  Important 
events  of  this  sort  have  in  all  ages  excited  the  imagina- 
tion of  pious  men  and  led  to  theories  of  the  final  consum- 
mation of  things.  Another  great  fact  which  before  this 
had  seemed  to  many  to  give  the  clew  to  the  mystery  was 
the  Eoman  Empire.  At  first  indifferent,  the  Eoman  gov- 
ernment had  come  to  be  a  persecutor.  The  frightful  bar- 
barities of  Nero  had  lifted  him  to  the  bad  eminence  of  an 
anti-Christ.  The  Jews  had  a  similar  feeling.  In  the  Tal- 
mud, Edom,  the  bitterest  and  most  hated  enemy  of  the  old 
Israel,  stands  for  Rome  (Weber,  "  System,"  §  81).  In  the 
New  Testament  Apocalypse,  the  Empire  is  represented  by 
Babylon,  whose  haughtiness,  cruelty,  and  appalling  destruc- 
tion are  celebrated  in  glowing  words  in  the  Old  Testament. 


364  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

The  destruction  of  Eome  is  the  point  to  which  the  author 
looks  forward  as  the  immediate  introduction  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  kingdom  ;  the  latter  event  follows  imme- 
diately on  the  former  (IJev.  xviii.  xix.).  The  destruction 
of  the  city  is  preceded  by  the  appearance  of  a  beast  (xiii), 
who  blasphemes  God,  makes  war  on  the  saints,  and  is  wor- 
shipped by  all  that  dwell  on  the  earth  except  those  whose 
names  are  written  in  the  book  of  life.  This  beast  is  after- 
ward explained  (xvii.)  to  be  a  Eoman  emperor,  the  eighth  in 
the  line,  yet  of  the  seven  first.  The  reference  is  most  prob- 
ably to  Nero,  the  fifth  of  the  series,  counting  Augustus  as 
the  first;  and  the  representation  proceeds  on  the  supposition 
that  Nero,  though  dead,  will  live  again.  There  is  reason  to 
believe  that  the  reappearance  of  the  dead  emperor  was  ex- 
pected.^ Apparently,  therefore,  the  scheme  of  the  author  of 
this  portion  of  the  book  of  Eevelation  is  that  the  Emperor 
Nero  was  to  return  to  power,  exalt  himself  as  an  object 
of  worship,  and  infiict  great  suffering  on  the  saints ;  and 
then  the  great  city  was  to  be  destroyed  and  the  kingdom 
of  Christ  established  (xix ).  Such  seems  also  to  be  the  con- 
ception of  the  enigmatical  passage  in  Second  Thessalonians 
(ii.),  in  which  the  coming  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  the 
gathering  of  his  people  are  spoken  of.  The  Lord's  coming 
is  to  be  preceded  by  an  apostasy  and  the  revelation  of  the 
man  of  lawlessness  or  sin,  —  a  mysterious  person  who  exalts 
himself  against  all  that  is  called  God  or  is  an  object  of 
worship,  and  by  his  signs  and  lying  wonders  deceives  those 
who  love  not  the  truth.  The  poitraiture  here  corresponds 
so  exactly  to  that  in  the  Apocalypse  that  we  may  with  prob- 
ability suppose  the  man  of  lawlessness  to  be  the  Emperor 
Nero.     But  there  is  something  that  restrains  his  appearance 

1  For  the  evidence  see  Renan,  "  L'Antechrist."  Tlie  imnibcr  fi66  assigned 
to  tlie  beast  (Rev.  xiii.  18)  has  been  variously  explained,  usually  from  some 
name  or  epithet  of  Nero,  .sometimes  as  symbolical.     iSee  the  fommentaries. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  305 

that  must  be  removed  before  the  son  of  perdition  can  be 
manifested.  What  this  restraining  thing  was  we  do  not 
know.  The  author  of  the  Epistle  speaks  in  a  mysterious 
undertone.  He  had  told  it  to  the  brethren  when  he  was 
with  them,  and  they,  he  says,  are  acquainted  with  it.  It 
is  of  no  great  importance  for  our  purpose  to  determine  what 
this  restraining  thing  or  person  was ;  the  main  point  is 
that  the  consummation  is  connected  with  the  fortunes  of 
the  Roman  Empire,  and  that  it  is  to  be  expected  speedily. 
The  Lord  Jesus  is  to  slay  the  lawless  one  with  the  breath 
of  his  mouth.  It  is  the  opposition  of  Christ  and  anti-Christ, 
germs  of  which  are  found  in  the  Old  Testament.  It  was  a 
natural  feeling  that  the  evil  must  go  on  increasing  in  in- 
tensity, and  that  then,  when  it  reached  its  highest  point  and 
seemed  intolerable,  the  interposition  and  deliverance  should 
come.i  How  far  this  particular  view,  which  connected  the 
parousia  with  the  fall  of  the  Eoman  Empire,  was  held  in 
the  early  Church,  it  is  hardly  possible  to  say.  After  the 
destruction  of  Jerusalem,  when  Nero  did  not  appear,  and 
the  Empire  showed  only  increasing  strength  and  prosperity, 
other  points  of  view  had  to  be  sought.  The  Church  did  not 
cease  to  cherish  the  hope  of  the  Lord's  coming,  but  it  was 
less  anxious  to  fix  a  definite  date,^  and  rather  devoted  itself 
to  the  cultivation  of  social  virtues  and  the  perfecting  of  its 
organization.  It  gradually  accepted  its  mission  to  dwell  in 
the  world  as  a  life-giving  influence.  As  its  membership  in- 
creased, its  energies  were  absorbed  in  the  care  of  the  numer- 
ous interests  which  it  had  gathered  about  itself.  It  was  the 
old  temporal  kingdom  of  Israel,  with  an  invisible  king  and 
a  body  of  citizens  who  belonged  to  all  the  nations  of  the 

1  So  in  Ezekiel,  Daniel,  and  Enoch.  The  Antiochus  of  Daniel  may  have 
suggested  the  Nero  of  the  New  Testament  Apocalypse. 

2  So  much  we  may  infer  from  the  literature  of  the  first  century.  Since 
that  time  there  hare  .always  heen  chiliastic  or  millenarian  tendencies  (nota- 
bly A.  I).  1000)  l)ut  they  have  not  been  controlling  points  of  view. 


366  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

earth.     Its  conquests  were  of  souls,  and  its  aim  was  the  sal- 
vation of  the  world. 

The  change  in  the  principle  of  membership  was  the  most 
important  characteristic  of  the  outward  organization  of  the 
Cliurch.  It  was  the  sign  of  the  advance  from  a  national 
to  a  universal  form  of  religion.  As  we  have  already  seen, 
it  is  hard  to  say  how  far  Jesus  himself  contemplated  such 
a  broadening  of  membership  in  the  earthly  kingdom  of  God. 
If  we  are  to  judge  from  the  procedure  of  the  disciples  for 
twenty  years  after  his  d(^.ath,  his  attention  was  fixed  mainly, 
if  not  exclusively,  on  his  own  people.  To  the  parent  church 
in  Jerusalem  it  seemed  a  self-evident  and  fundamental  prin- 
ciple that  entrance  into  the  Christian  community  was  pos- 
sible only  through  Judaism.  We  read  indeed  (Acts  x.)  of 
a  special  vision  and  revelation  by  which  Peter  was  taught 
that  no  man  was  to  be  called  common  or  unclean,  and  in 
consequence  of  which  certain  Gentiles  to  whom  he  preached 
and  who  received  the  Holy  Ghost  were  baptized  and  recog- 
nized as  Christians  without  having  been  circumcised.  But 
it  is  impossible  to  reconcile  this  account  with  subsequent 
proceedings.  The  long  fight  which  preceded  the  admission 
of  the  right  of  Gentiles,  as  such,  to  membership  in  the 
Church  is  unintelligible  if  Peter  received  so  open  and  de- 
cisive a  declaration  from  heaven,  and  Paul  knew  of  no  mis- 
sion of  Peter  to  the  Gentiles  (Gal.  ii.  7  0).  We  must  regard 
this  narrative  as  the  elaboration  of  a  later  tradition,  which, 
after  Gentile  membership  had  been  fairly  established,  sought 
to  gain  for  it  the  autliority  of  tlie  name  of  the  greatest 
of  the  strictly  Jewish  apostles.  The  ground  of  the  radical 
change  in  the  constitution  of  the  Church  is  to  be  sought 
in  the  circumstances  of  the  times.  A  violent  persecution 
drove  a  number  of  the  disciples  out  of  Palestine  into  the 
neighboring  countries  of  Phoenicia,  Cyprus,  and  Syria.  Here 
they  preached  the  new  faith,  but  at  first  to  Jews  only.     At 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  367 

Antioch,  however,  as  it  would  seem,  they  were  drawn  mto 
addressmg  themselves  to  Greeks  also,  many  of  whom  be- 
lieved. How  the  question  of  admission  into  the  Church  was 
at  first  solved  in  Antioch  we  are  not  informed  ;  but  to  this 
city  Paul  was  brought  by  Barnabas,  labored  there  for  a 
year,  and  thence  went  out  to  proclaim  the  new  faith  in 
Asia  Minor.  It  was  in  another  Antioch,  in  Pisidia,  that 
Paul  and  Barnabas  took  the  decisive  step  of  turning  from 
the  Jews  and  addressing  themselves  directly  to  the  Gen- 
tiles ;  and  it  was  the  entrance  of  a  large  body  of  Gentiles 
into  the  Church  which  decided  the  question  of  the  terms 
of  membership.  Should  these  persons  be  forced  to  sub- 
mit to  the  initiatory  rite  of  Judaism  before  they  could  be 
esteemed  worthy  to  be  baptized  into  the  faith  of  Jesus 
Clu'ist  ?  Paul  faced  the  problem  boldly,  and  with  the  prac- 
tical judgment  and  fearless  decision  which  so  eminently 
characterized  him,  determined  that  their  faith  in  Jesus  gave 
them  of  itself  full  claim  to  the  privileges  of  the  Church. 
This  was  the  decisive  step  ;  Christianity  thus  ceased  to  be 
a  Jewish  sect,  and  became  an  independent  religion  which 
offered  itself  to  all  men  without  distinction  of  nations.  The 
detailed  history  of  this  revolution  has  unfortunately  not  been 
preserved.  That  there  was  a  sharp  conflict  we  know  from 
Paul's  letters  (Gal.  ii.  iv. ;  1  Cor  i.)  and  from  hints  in  the 
book  of  Acts  (xv.).  By  the  extreme  conservatives,  who  in- 
sisted on  circumcision  as  a  necessary  preliminary  to  mem- 
bership in  the  Christian  Church,  Paul  seems  to  have  been 
looked  on  as  a  traitor  to  the  national  faith  He  persisted, 
however,  in  his  more  liberal  policy,  and  has  himself  de- 
scribed (Gal.  ii.)  how  he  went  up  to  Jerusalem  with  Bar- 
nabas and  Titus,  met  the  chief  men  of  the  mother-church, 
and  there  in  spite  of  opposition  obtained  the  indorsement 
of  the  great  apostles,  James,  Peter,  and  John,  and  the  recog- 
nition of  the  right  of  Gentiles  to  enter  the  Church  without 


368  THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

first  becoming  Jews.  And  Paul  was  not  content  with  this 
admission  ;  he  employed  his  sharp  dialectic  to  show  that 
the  insistence  on  circumcision  fur  the  Gentiles  was  incom- 
patible with  true  faith  in  Christ,  was  a  practical  denial  of 
the  completeness  of  Christ's  redemption  and  of  the  suffi- 
ciency of  the  grace  of  God,  —  was,  in  a  word,  the  aban- 
donment of  the  spiritual  religion  of  divine  grace,  and  the 
advocacy  of  the  dead  and  deadly  idea  of  salvation  by 
works.  Thus  he  elevated  universality  of  membership  to  the 
rank  of  a  fundamental  principle  of  spiritual  religion. 

It  has  already  been  remarked  that  Paul  gave  to  the 
new  faith  that  framework  of  religious  dogma  which  was 
essential  to  its  continued  existence  and  efficiency.  He  con- 
nected salvation  definitely  with  the  glorified  person  of  Jesus 
as  the  ]\Iessiah.  In  detaching  it  from  Judaism  and  se- 
curing it  independent  organization,  he  provided  the  other 
essential  for  a  world-religion.  It  is  in  this  sense  that 
Paul  may  be  called  the  founder  of  Christianity  as  the 
organized  embodiment  of  the  ideal  kingdom  of  God.  In 
the  higher  sense  that  title  belongs  only  to  Jesus.  Jesus 
laid  the  foundations  of  a  practically  universal  religious 
community  ;  Paul  narrowed  the  conception  in  a  dogmatic 
way.  Jesus  announced  certain  fundamental  principles  which 
must  always  and  everywhere  determine  the  attitude  of  the 
soul  toward  a  personal  God  ;  Paul  attached  these  princi- 
ples to  a  mass  of  dogma  which  essayed  to  define  and  ex- 
plain them  theologically.  From  the  whole  body  of  religious 
thought  which  the  Jewish  people  had  worked  out  in  the 
long  course  of  its  religious  experience  Jesus  selected  that 
part  whicli  was  independent  of  national  relations.  He  said 
little  or  nothing  of  the  Jewish  code.  He  accepted  it  as  a 
fact,  not  undertaking  to  abrogate  or  even  modify  it,  but 
casting  into  its  midst  a  body  of  spiritual -religious  truth 
which  was  independent  of  all  codes,  and  which,  if  accepted 


THE   KINGDOM  OF   GOD.  369 

and  acted  on,  would  annul  the  evil  of  a  formal  code.  Thus, 
in  one  sense,  as  has  already  been  pointed  out,  his  scheme 
of  life  was  nomistic,  in  so  far  as  it  accepted  the  Mosaic  law 
as  the  rule  of  faith  and  practice.  But  on  the  other  hand, 
the  exclusive  prominence  which  he  gave  to  spiritual  doc- 
trine might  be  relied  on,  if  it  were  sincerely  accepted,  to 
establish  a  new  method  of  moral-religious  life.  The  diffi- 
culty was  that  men  would  be  slow  to  accept  it.  So  much 
are  men  creatures  of  routine,  so  much  under  the  domination 
of  mechanical  rule,  that  it  is  always  to  be  feared  that  the 
outward  will  coerce  and  repress  the  inward.  Spiritual  truth 
is  dimmed  and  enfeebled  by  the  presence  of  a  great  mass  of 
prescriptions.  There  is  indeed  no  perfect  escape  from  this 
danger.  Whatever  the  purity  and  force  of  the  spiritual  truth 
which  is  committed  to  men,  they  will  always  do  what  tliey 
can  to  enclose  it  in  a  framework  of  unspiritual  dogma,  and 
in  the  conflict  between  the  spiritual  and  the  unspiritual 
human  weakness  always  gives  the  advantage  to  the  latter. 
The  history  of  Christianity  abounds  in  illustrations  of  this 
tendency.  The  Church  has  at  various  times  built  up  a 
structure  of  beliefs  and  practices  which  for  intricacy  and 
crushing  power  may  fairly  be  compared  with  the  tradi- 
tional law  of  the  Jews.  Even  in  the  first  century,  within 
two  generations  after  the  death  of  the  Master,  the  Church 
had  grown  into  a  partially  petrified  organization.  We 
are  not  to  regard  the  transition  from  Judaism  to  histori- 
cal Christianity  as  the  substitution  of  a  perfect  for  an 
imperfect  form  of  religion,  but  as  an  advance  from  an  im- 
perfect to  a  less  imperfect  form,  —  to  one  which  permitted 
that  moral -spiritual  truth  which  is  the  germ  of  all  reli- 
gions to  assert  itself  with  greater  freedom  and  exert  its 
true  influence  more  completely.  For  the  Jewish  scheme  of 
obedience  to  a  mass  of  precepts  I'aul  substituted  faith  in 
Jesus  as  Eedeemer,  —  a  vastly  higher  and  freer  conception  ; 
24 


370  THE    KINGDOM   OF   GOD. 

yet  even  this,  especially  in  its  concomitants,  speedily  became 
mechanicalized. 

Christianity  was  a  Jewish  development ;  but  it  was  much 
more.  The  conception  of  the  earthly  kingdom  of  God,  as  a 
human  organization,  was,  as  we  have  seen,  almost  peculiar 
to  the  Jews.  Elsewhere  it  is  found  only  in  germinal  form ; 
but  its  essential  elements  are  universal.  It  means  the  due 
recognition  of  all  the  factors  and  relations  of  life,  human 
and  divine,  —  the  highest  refinement  of  ethical  and  religious 
feeling  and  action.  It  must  include  the  best  thought  of  the 
world,  and  can  come  truly  into  existence  only  by  the  co- 
operation of  all  peoples  and  races.  It  is  not  exclusively 
Jewish  or  Greek  or  Roman,  but  move  than  all  this.  The 
ultimate  aim  of  the  world's  life  is  the  fusion  of  its  high- 
est ideas  into  a  harmonious  practical  unity ;  and  it  is  the 
great  merit  of  Christianity  to  have  taken  a  decided  step  in 
preparation  for  this  end.  In  the  first  century  already  the 
Church  showed  an  intermingling  of  Semitic  and  Hellenic 
conceptions,  both  ethical  and  religious.^  In  the  divine  there 
was  majesty,  justice,  and  love ;  in  the  human  there  was  the 
recognition  of  tlie  supremacy  of  conscience  and  the  power 
of  sympathy  and  sweetness.  This  was  in  itself  a  great  ad- 
vance ;  it  was  the  partial  fusion  of  two  great  masses  of 
human  thought.  But  this  is  not  all.  The  service  that  Chris- 
tianity did  was  so  to  strip  religion  of  local  and  anthropo- 
morphic elements  that  all  the  Western  world  might  in  a 
substantial  way  unite  in  working  out  the  truly  religious 
life.  The  Old-World  deadly  isolation  was  done  away  with 
(Kph.  ii.  11-22), — not  completely  and  absolutely,  but  so 
substantially  as  to  mark  an  epoch  in  human  history.  There 
remained  localisms  and  anthropomorphisms  whose  removal 
was  to  be  left  to  the  slow-moving  moral  forces  of  society ; 

^  Tlio  Somitism,  nioroovor,  Imd  alroady  I)Oon  affoctod  liy  Porsian  tlionght. 
WhetluT  the  Ilollenisni  liail  felt  tlio  iiillueiice  of  Iliiidu  ideas  is  doiil.tful. 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD.  371 

but  the  path  was  marked  out,  and  the  greatest  obstacles 
taken  out  of  the  way.  Political  unity  had  been  achieved, 
but  complete  harmony  was  impossible  without  religious  one- 
ness. Christianity  offered  what  all  could  accept.  By  fur- 
nishing a  practical  bond  between  nationalities  it  effected 
what  the  Hellenic  and  Roman  religions  had  proved  them- 
selves unable  to  effect.  It  was  the  fruit  of  a  noble  and 
powerful  eclecticism  carried  on  by  lofty  spiritual  thinkers. 
It  had  its  roots  in  the  far  past,  but  its  special  impulse  came 
from  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

ESCHATOLOGY. 

'T^HE  eschatological  ideas  of  the  New  Testament  offer 
-■-  very  little  that  can  be  considered  an  advance  on  the 
current  Jewish  conceptions  of  the  period.  Such  ideas  by 
their  nature  belong  not  to  the  spiritual  kernel  of  religion, 
but  to  its  external  dogmatic  framework.  From  the  point 
of  view  of  pure  religion  they  are  among  the  least  intiuen- 
tial  and  the  least  interesting  of  religious  facts.  They  are 
of  importance,  however,  as  showing  how  much  of  the  ex- 
isting dogma  Christianity  felt  called  on  to  accept  in  order 
that  it  might  become  effective  for  that  generation  as  well 
as  for  many  succeeding  generations.  We  have  to  consider 
the  beliefs  respecting  immortality,  resurrection,  and  the  new 
dispensation.  The  last  of  these  is  closely  connected  with 
the  doctrine  of  the  Messiah,  and  has  already  been  touched 
on.  Some  points  not  before  brought  out  may  be  here  re- 
ferred to.  It  is  probably  true  of  this  whole  circle  of  be- 
liefs tliat  only  certain  current  phases  of  faith  are  mentioned 
in  the  New  Testament  and  in  the  immediately  preceding 
literature.  It  is  hardly  possible  to  give  a  complete  history 
of  the  eschatological  ideas  of  the  age,  nor  is  this  necessary 
for  our  present  purpose.  They  are  interesting  for  us  in  so 
far  as  they  illustrate  the  moral-religious  life  of  the  time  ; 
that  is,  in  the  first  place,  as  contributing  an  etliical  factor, 
and  then  as  supplying  what  was  regarded  as  a  necessary 
framework  for  religious  life.  It  will  be  sufficient  to  refer 
to  certain  prominent  facts  in  the  current  belief.^ 

^  In  spite  of  a  number  of  excellent  works,  German,  French,  and  English, 
a  critical  history  of  Jewish  and  Christian  eschatology  is  still  a  desideratum. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  373 

1.  Let  us  first  notice  the  fuller  sketch  of  the  fortunes 
of  the  earthly  kingdom  of  God  which  is  given  in  the 
Apocalypse.  The  main  point  of  this  sketch  is  the  double 
judgment.  The  destruction  of  the  Eoman  Empire  is  fol- 
lowed by  the  imprisonment  of  Satan  for  a  thousand  years 
and  by  the  first  judgment.  Those  who  had  been  beheaded 
for  the  testimony  of  Jesus  and  had  not  worshipped  the 
beast  —  that  is,  had  not  acknowledged  the  religious  au- 
thority of  the  Empire  —  are  restored  to  life  (the  first  res- 
urrection), and  reign  with  Christ  a  thousand  years.  At  the 
end  of  this  millennium  Satan  is  loosed  from  prison,  and 
advances  at  the  head  of  the  innumerable  hosts  of  Gog  and 
Magog  to  attack  the  camp  of  the  saints  and  the  beloved 
city.  Fire  descends  from  heaven  and  devours  the  anti- 
godly  army  ;  the  devil  is  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire  along 
with  the  beast  and  the  false  prophet  (the  political  and  re- 
ligious enemies  of  the  faith),  and  there  they  are  to  be  tor- 
mented for  ever  and  ever.  Thereupon  follows  the  general 
judgment,  where  every  man  is  judged  according  to  his 
works,  and  whoever  is  not  found  written  in  the  book  of 
life  —  that  is,  is  not  a  believer  in  Jesus  —  is  cast  into 
the  lake  of  fire.  Then  the  first  heaven  and  the  first  earth 
pass  away,  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth  come,  God  makes 
his  dwelling  with  men,  and  from  the  eyes  of  his  people  all 
tears  are  wiped  away.  There  is  a  city,  a  new  Jerusalem, 
which  shines  with  an  everlasting  divine  light,  and  a  life 
radiant  with  everlasting  divine  blessedness. 

It  is  evident  that  the  body  of  this  description  is  taken 
from  the  boo-ks  of  Ezekiel,  Isaiah,  and  Enoch.  Ezekiel 
(xxxviii.  xxxix.)  describes  the  great  invasion  of  Gog,  the 
Prince  of  Magog  (in  the  Apocalypse  Gog  becomes  a  nation), 
which  precedes  the  final  blessed  establishment  of  Israel  in 
its  own  land;  Isaiah  portrays  the  blessedness  of  the  new 
heavens  and  the  new  earth  which  God  will  create  for  his 


374  ESCHATOLOGY. 

people,  where  weeping  shall  he  no  more  heard,  and  God  will 
dwell  with  them  forever  (Ixv.) ;  Enoch  gives  a  picture  of 
the  general  judgment  which  is  substantially  the  same  as 
that  of  the  New  Testament  book  (li.  Ixii.  Ixiii.  xci.).  How 
the  conception  of  two  judgments  arose  it  is  less  easy  to  say. 
Perhaps  the  author  of  this  passage  of  the  Apocalypse,  fol- 
lowing Ezekiel,  regarded  the  conflict  with  Magog  as  the 
final  struggle  of  the  enemies  of  the  people  of  God,^  while 
at  the  same  time  he  was  convinced  that  the  fall  of  the 
Roman  Empire  was  in  a  decisive  way  to  usher  in  the  king- 
dom of  God.  In  order  to  reconcile  these  two  views  he  may 
then  have  conceived  of  an  interval  between  the  two  events. 
The  first  judgment  was  to  introduce  a  real  reign  of  the 
saints,  —  a  period  in  which  peace  was  secured  by  the  im- 
prisonment of  the  devil,^  but  during  which  earthly  affairs  in 
general  went  on  as  before.  Then  comes  the  final  judgment, 
the  destruction  of  death  and  Hades,^  the  final  imprisonment 
of  Satan,  the  removal  of  all  sinful  elements  from  life,  and 
the  establishment  of  a  permanent  existence  of  happiness  for 
the  righteous. 

Whether  in  this  scheme  and  others  of  similar  character 
we  are  to  see  the  coloring  of  Persian  ideas,  it  is  hardly  pos- 
sible to  decide  with  certainty.  The  resemblances  between 
the  Jewish  and  Persian  eschatologies  are  striking,  and  the 
general  possibility  of  Persian  influence  is  proved  by  the 
Jewish  and  Christian  angelology  and  demonology ;  but  the 

1  A  Messianic  interpretation  of  the  invasion  of  Gog  and  Magog  is  given 
in  the  Talmud  (Weber,  "  System,"  §  87).  By  some  it  is  hekl  to  precede,  by 
others  to  follow,  the  reign  of  the  Messiah. 

2  The  number  1,000  of  the  years  of  Satan's  imprisonment  was  perhaps 
suggested  by  Ps  xc.  4,  or  it  may  be  merely  a  natural  expression  of  a  long 
space  of  time  (of.  Ezekiel's  employment  of  the  same  unit,  Ezek.  xlviii.). 

8  So  in  1  Cor.  xv.  23-28.  Here  death  is  tlie  last  of  the  enemies  that  Christ 
is  to  subdue  when  he  shall  come.  Paul  adds  that  the  Messianic  reign  will 
then  come  to  an  end,  swallowed  up  in  the  reign  of  God.  A  similar  view  seems 
to  be  given  in  Rev.  xx.  xxi. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  375 

late  date  of  the  present  form  of  the  Persian  eschatological 
writings  (some  centuries  after  the  beginning  of  our  era), 
though  they  doubtless  rest  on  earlier  beliefs,  makes  it  pre- 
carious to  assume  that  these  ideas  affected  the  Jews  so 
early  as  the  second  or  first  pre-Christian  century,  when 
Jewish  Messianic  systems  first  make  their  appearance.  Fur- 
ther, the  Jewish  development  would  seem  to  be  satisfac- 
torily accounted  for  from  the  native  material.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  is  possible  to  suppose  an  influence  in  the  opposite 
direction,  of  Judaism  and  Christianity  on  Mazdeism.  The 
data  seem  insufficient  to  decide  the  question.  If  the  ex- 
istence of  the  Bundehesh  scheme  in  the  second  century  b.  c. 
could  be  made  probable,  we  might  suppose  that  it  colored 
the  Jewish  Messianic  ideas  somewhat  as  the  Mazdean  dual- 
ism colored  the  idea  of  Satan.  So  far  as  regards  the  ma- 
chinery of  the  New  Testament  Apocalypse,  —  the  dragon, 
the  beast,  etc.,  —  this  may  be  explained  out  of  Jewisli  ma- 
terial and  the  historical  conditions  of  the  first  century.  In 
any  case,  the  moral-religious  ideas  involved  in  the  Messianic 
eschatology  are  thoroughly  Jewish  and  Christian.^ 

The  details  of  the  picture  belong  to  the  thought  of  the 
times.  As  a  history  of  the  future  blessedness  of  the  saints, 
this  passage  has  always  awakened  the  interest  and  excited 
the  curiosity  of  the  Church.  By  the  author  and  many  oth- 
ers of  that  generation,  doubtless,  the  fulfilment  of  the  pre- 
diction was  believed  to  be  imminent ;  but  generation  after 
generation  passed,  the  Roman  Empire  remained  as  before, 
and  the  time  of  fulfilment  was  deferred.  So  ever  since  in 
every  age  there  have  been  those  who  expected  the  speedy 
coming  of  the  Lord  and  the  introduction   of  the  final  dis- 

1  On  the  Persian  eschatolog}',  besides  the  works  above  mentioned,  page 
172,  see  the  discussions  of  Roth,  and  compare  works  on  the  Jewish  doctrine 
of  the  Messiah.  On  the  supposed  composite  —  Jewish  and  Christian  —  consti- 
tution of  the  Apocalypse,  see  the  treatises  of  Vischer,  Sabatier,  and  others.  A 
compa^rative  history  of  Messianic  ideas  in  all  relifjions  has  yet  to  be  written. 


376  ESCHATOLOGY. 

pensation  of  blessedness.  The  historical  interpretation  of 
the  various  characters  and  events  of  the  apocalyptic  visions 
has  varied  with  the  mutations  of  history  ;  but  the  confidence 
as  to  the  issue  has  not  lessened  among  those  who  regarded 
this  book  as  a  divinely  revealed  picture  of  the  future.  The 
effect  of  this  faith  on  the  life  of  the  Church  has  not  been 
great.  It  was  an  inheritance  of  Christianity  from  Judaism. 
For  the  Jews  it  had  a  national-political  significance,  and  it 
was  a  transfer  of  the  idea  of  earthly  order  to  the  scheme 
of  the  universe.  There  was  to  be  a  final  settlement,  an  en- 
forced peace  and  stability,  like  that  which  a  conqueror  im- 
poses on  subject  lands.  In  no  other  way  could  that  age 
conceive  of  the  triumph  of  truth  ;  and  the  Christianity  of 
the  first  century  naturally  appropriated  this  mechanical  gov- 
ernmental view.  The  king  of  the  Apocalypse  rules  with  a 
rod  of  iron  ;  and  Paul  conceives  of  the  reign  of  the  Mes- 
siah as  a  warfare,  —  he  must  reign  till  he  has  put  all  ene- 
mies under  his  feet.  Still,  even  in  tlie  first  century  this 
aspect  of  the  kingdom  of  God  is  gradually  modified.  The 
spiritual' gradually  replaces  the  external;  the  hope  of  the 
Lord's  earthly  coming  is  more  and  more  swallowed  up  in 
the  larger  hope  of  heaven,  —  the  individual  hope,  the  fulfil- 
ment of  which  death  brought  to  every  believer.  The  expec- 
tation of  Christ's  coming  has  been  mainly  a  moral  element  in 
Christianity.  It  has  not  affected  the  properly  religious  dogma 
or  the  organization  of  the  Church.  It  has  sustained  men  in 
adversity  ;  it  has  produced  enthusiasm  or  fanaticism.  It  has 
not  quickened  thought,  or  promoted  real  social-religious  prog- 
ress. For  the  first  century  it  wms  probably  valuable  as  an 
outward  support  for  the  struggling  and  feebly  founded  faith 
(Tas.  V.  7  ;  1  Thess.  iv.  13-18  ;  v.  1-11 ;  2  Thess.  i.  3-12  ;  1  Cor. 
XV.  19  ;  xvi.  22  ;  1  Pet.  iv.  7-19  ;  Piev.  passim). 

Its  significance  has  become  less  and   less  ;  that  is,  the 
stress  laid  on  the  particular  outward  form  has  been  grad- 


ESCHATOLOGY.  377 

ually  diminishing,  and  Christian  feeling  has  tended  more 
and  more  to  emphasize  the  spiritual  content  of  the  idea. 
The  Church  more  and  more  holds  itself  to  be  the  visible 
kingdom  of  God  on  earth,  its  struggle  and  life  to  be  spirit- 
ual, its  aim  the  regeneration  of  humanity ;  and  this  result, 
it  holds,  is  to  be  effected  by  the  employment  of  ordinary 
ethical-spiritual  agencies.  The  Church  feels  that  its  func- 
tion is  not  to  sit  passively  waiting  for  the  Lord,  but  rather 
to  conquer  the  world  for  him.  The  germ  of  tliis  conception 
is  found  in  the  Old  Testament ;  it  is  the  prophetic  exhorta- 
tion that  Israel  shall  make  possible  the  Lord's  intervention 
by  obedience  and  trust,  by  the  attainment  of  moral  perfect- 
ness.  This  ethical  conception  was  set  in  the  political  frame- 
work which  belonged  to  the  ideas  of  the  age.  Christianity 
received  it  from  Judaism  with  certain  modifications  ;  and 
the  progress  of  Christian  life  has  consisted  in  part  in  cut- 
ting away  this  framework  and  returning  to  the  simplest  con- 
ception of  moral  regeneration.  The  reign  of  Christ  signifies 
the  reign  of  ethical  purity  and  true  religion,  the  establish- 
ment of  moral  order.  The  Church  is  more  concerned  with 
the  end  than  with  the  means  ;  or  rather,  it  recognizes  the 
fact  that  the  burden  of  responsibility  rests  on  itself.  And 
this,  it  would  seem,  was  the  idea  of  Jesus  :  the  regeneration 
of  humanity  brought  about  by  individual  purity  and  faith- 
fulness, —  the  love  of  God  and  the  love  of  man  the  two  fac- 
tors which  were  to  raise  human  life  to  its  full  proportions 
of  purity  and  majesty,  and  bring  it  into  intimate  union  with 
the  complete  and  everlasting  life  of  the  divine  father. 

2.  Christianity  received  from  Judaism  the  doctrines  of  im- 
mortality and  resurrection.  They  appear  in  the  earliest  of 
Paul's  Epistles,  and  it  may  be  assumed  that  they  formed  a 
part  of  the  material  of  Christian  thought  in  the  middle  of 
the  first  century  of  our  era.  The  history  of  their  genesis 
must  be  sought  in  the  Judaism  of  the  preceding  centuries. 


378  ESCHATOLOGY. 

The  first  distinct  announcement  of  immortality,  in  our 
sense  of  the  word,  is  found  in  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  a 
work  whicli  belongs  not  far  from  200  B.  c.  The  Old  Testa- 
ment, if  we  except  the  book  of  Daniel,  takes  no  hopeful 
view  of  the  future  life.  Everywhere  we  find  the  old  Semitic 
conception  of  a  colorless  existence  in  Sheol :  a  gloomy  under- 
world with  gates  and  bars,  tenanted  by  joyless  shades,  whose 
existence  runs  a  gray,  uncheckered  course,  unilluminated  by 
the  ordinary  emotions  of  men,  unstimulated  by  their  ordi- 
nary aims  and  hopes,  severed  from  the  life  of  the  great  world 
above,  and  cut  off  from  living  communion  with  God.  In 
the  early  times  it  was  believed  that  by  magic  arts  the  dead 
might  be  brought  up  to  tell  the  secrets  of  the  living.  Sam- 
uel rises  to  crush  the  unhappy  Saul  by  a  prediction  of  defeat 
and  death.  Necromancy  was  rife  in  Isaiah's  time  (Isa.  viii. 
19).  But  the  better  minds  of  Israel  deplored  and  opposed 
this  remnant  of  paganism.  Why,  said  they,  go  to  the  dead 
in  behalf  of  the  living  ?  The  appeal,  they  felt,  must  be  to 
the  divine  law  as  spoken  by  the  prophets  (Isa.  viii.).  If  the 
people  refused  this  only  lawful  means  of  instruction,  it  was 
because  they  had  no  true  religious  light  in  them.  Necro- 
mancy was  in  those  times  inseparably  connected  with  rude, 
debasing  beliefs  and  rites.  The  struggle  of  the  prophets  was 
to  banish  all  other  worships  but  tliat  of  Yahwe,  and  to 
lead  the  nation  to  look  to  the  prophetic  word  alone  for  all 
guidance  in  life.  Thus  opposed  to  the  genius  of  Israelitism, 
the  practice  of  consulting  the  shades  fell  gradually  into  dis- 
use. The  dead  were  left  in  their  nether  abode,  forever  iso- 
lated from  the  genuine  life  of  upper  earth,  and  excluded  from 
tlie  sympathies  of  the  living  except  in  so  far  as  they  fur- 
nished examples  of  good  or  evil,  or  were  the  foundations  of 
divine  promises  which  underlay  the  development  of  the  na- 
tion. Abraham,  Isaac,  Jacob,  and  David  lived  in  the  mem- 
ory of  the  pious ;  were  the  bearers  of  divine  messages  and 


ESCHATOLOGY.  379 

hopes,  but  only  as  denizens  of  the  upper  world.  They  lived 
in  the  past ;  their  present  in  Sheol  was  forgotten  or  un- 
regarded. At  least,  this  is  true  so  far  as  the  records  go. 
Never  is  there  reference  or  allusion  to  them  as  still  truly 
alive  in  Sheol,  never  a  hint  that  they  are  supposed  to  follow 
with  intelligence  and  interest  the  fortunes  of  their  fellow- 
countrymen.  Jacob  shows  no  interest  in  the  history  of  his 
twelve  sons ;  David  is  unconcerned  about  the  political  pros- 
perity of  his  realm,  and  Solomon  indifferent  to  the  career  of 
the  temple.  Only  once  in  the  Old  Testament  is  there  any 
hint  of  emotion  in  the  shades  of  Sheol :  when  the  proud  king 
of  Babylon,  overthrown  and  slain,  descends  to  the  realms 
below,  the  inmates  greet  his  arrival  with  a  cry  of  malignant 
satisfaction.  Thy  glory  is  departed,  they  say ;  thou  art  be- 
come as  one  of  us  (Isa.  xiv.  9, 10).  It  is  as  if  all  their  life 
was  compressed  into  one  gloomy  consciousness  of  failure 
and  nothingness,  their  only  joy  coming  from  the  spectacle  of 
others'  misery.  It  is  the  only  approach  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment to  the  later  conception  of  a  future  place  of  torment. 

There  are  some  passages  in  the  Old  Testament  which  have 
been  supposed  to  contain  the  hope  of  immortality  ;  but  the.se 
all,  under  careful  examination,  appear  to  regard  the  presence 
of  God  only  in  this  life.  The  declaration  of  the  Sixteenth 
Psalm  - —  "  Thou  wilt  not  abandon  me  to  Sheol  nor  suffer  thy 
godly  one  to  see  the  pit;  thou  wilt  show  me  the  path  of 
life  ;  in  thy  presence  is  fulness  of  joy,  in  thy  right  hand 
there  are  pleasures  forevermore "  —  sets  forth  the  writer's 
complete  satisfaction  and  security  in  the  divine  presence 
and  protection.  "  Yahwe,"  says  he,  "  is  my  portion,  is  at  my 
right  hand  ;  wherefore  I  am  glad,  since  he  will  not  give  me 
over  to  death,  but  will  keep  me  in  life,  his  presence  securing 
all  safety  and  joy."  It  is  the  present,  the  earthly  life,  of 
which  he  is  thinking,  and  the  deliverance  from  that  pre- 
mature death  which  was  the  portion  of  the  wicked  (Ps.  ix. 


380  ESCHATOLOGY. 

17),  and  was  esteemed  the  greatest  misfortune.  In  like  man- 
ner we  must  understand  the  conchiding  verse  of  the  Seven- 
teenth Psabn.  The  writer,  confident  of  his  own  integrity 
(verse  3),  asks  for  protection  against  the  prosperous  wicked. 
They,  he  says,  are  filled  with  treasure  ;  and  then,  contrast- 
ing his  own  situation,  he  adds  :  "  As  for  me,  I  behold  thy 
face  in  righteousness ;  I  am  satisfied,  when  I  awake,  with 
thee."  He  means  that  over  against  the  present  worldly  pros- 
perity of  the  wicked  he  himself  is  satisfied  to  have  God  on 
his  side,  secure  by  this  fact  of  ultimate  success  and  happi- 
ness in  this  life.  The  expression,  "  when  I  awake,"  cannot 
refer  to  the  resurrection  after  death  ;  so  important  a  fact 
would  not  be  mentioned  in  this  incidental  manner,  and  the 
point  under  discussion  is  earthly  well-being.  The  psalm  may 
be  an  evening  or  morning  hymn.  The  writer  seems  to  have 
in  mind  the  night  (verse  3),  or  he  may  mean  to  say,  in 
general,  that  when  he  awakes  every  morning,  he  is  perfectly 
satisfied  to  have  with  him,  not  the  power  of  his  wicked  ene- 
mies, but  the  presence  of  the  God  of  Israel,  in  whose  hand 
man's  might  is  as  nothing.^  The  strong  expression  of  Ps. 
xlix.  15  {Heh.  1(5),  "God  will  redeem  me  from  the  hand  of 
Sheol,"  is  identical  in  meaning  with  the  similar  expression 
in  Ps.  xvi.  The  hope  expressed  in  Ps.  Ixxi.  20,  "  Thou  who 
hast  showed  us  many  and  sore  troubles  shalt  quicken  us 
again,  and  bring  us  up  again  from  the  depths  of  the  earth," 
is  shown  by  the  context  to  relate  to  the  restoration  of 
earthly  comfort  and  greatness.  It  seems  equally  clear  that 
the  striking  passage  in  the  Seventy-Third  Psalm  (verse  24), 


1  Tlie  pxprcssion  "awake"  is  used  of  rosurrcction  in  Dan.  xii.  2,  and  this 
psalm  niisiht  belong  to  the  same  period  (middle  of  second  century  ».  c.) ; 
but  Daniel  plainly  affirms  the  rising  from  the  dead,  while  the  thought  of 
the  psalm  points  in  another  direction.  Further,  Daniel  contemplates  a  new 
life  on  earth,  while  the  psalm-expression,  if  held  to  refer  to  the  resurrection, 
would  seem  to  itivolve  the  far  more  advanced  conception  of  dwelling,  prob- 
ably in  heaven,  in  the  presence  of  God. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  381 

"Thou  slialt  guide  me  with  thy  counsel  and  afterward  re- 
ceive me  to  glory,"  refers  only  to  the  present  life.  The 
author  has  been  deeply  moved  by  the  spectacle  of  the  pros- 
perity of  the  wicked.  It  was  too  painful  for  him,  he  says, 
until  he  went  to  the  sanctuary  of  God  and  saw  their  latter 
end,  —  how  they  were  consumed  and  cast  down  to  destruc- 
tion. He  deplores  his  own  ignorance  and  thoughtlessness 
in  thus  misconceiving  the  problem  ;  yet,  he  adds,  he  is  con- 
tinually with  God,  upheld  and  guided  by  him,  taken  by  him 
into  a  position  of  glory  and  happiness.  In  the  heavens  among 
the  gods  and  on  earth  among  men,  he  desires  no  helper  but 
the  God  of  Israel.  They  that  are  far  from  God  shall  perish 
(with  earthly  destruction) ;  but  as  for  him,  he  draws  near 
to  the  Lord  and  makes  him  hh  refuge.  Here  it  is  still  the 
present  life  of  which  the  author  is  thinking.  The  precise 
meaning  of  the  familiar  passage  in  Job  xix.  (verses  25-27)  is 
obscured  by  the  corrupt  character  of  the  text.  It  is  almost 
impossible  to  give  a  satisfactory  translation  of  verse  26, 
and  difficult  to  render  verses  25  and  27.  If  we  follow  the 
guidance  of  the  immediate  context,  we  shall  be  inclined  to 
hold  that  Job  has  in  mind  here  only  the  earthly  life.  Why, 
oh,  my  friends,  he  exclaims,  do  you  persecute  me  ?  Oh,  that 
my  words  were  written  in  a  book,  that  the  grounds  of  my 
defence  against  my  accusers  might  be  known,;  yet  I  am 
sure  that  my  vindicator  will  at  last  appear ;  and  do  you, 
if  you  purpose  still  to  persecute  me,  be  afraid  of  the  sword. 
There  is  a  judgment  for  evil-doers ! 

Eegardmg  these  passages,  then,  as  at  least  not  decisive, 
it  may  be  said  that  the  Old  Testament  elsewhere  (except 
in  Daniel)  persistently  ignores  the  underworld  as  a  motive 
for  the  present  life.  It  is  always  with  a  tone  of  sadness 
that  it  speaks  of  Sheol.  The  dead  cannot  praise  thee,  ex- 
claims the  pious  soul,  lifting  itself  in  supplication  to  God ; 
the  living,  they  shall  praise  thee.    The  psalm  of  thanks- 


382  ESCHATOLOGY. 

giving  ascribed  to  King  Hezekiah  (Isa.  xxxviii.)  is  the  ex- 
pression of  complete  hopelessness  in  regard  to  the  other 
life ;  similar  representations  are  found  in  the  book  of  Psalms. 
Everywhere  a  long  life  is  esteemed  the  greatest  of  blessings, 
and  all  beyond  this  world  is  ignored ;  punishment  consists 
not  in  pains  in  Sheol,  but  in  the  fact  of  the  termination  of 
earthly  life,  which  is  the  cessation  of  all  joyful  and  produc- 
tive activity.  The  sanctions  of  the  Mosaic  law  are  wholly 
temporal.  Not  once  does  it  urge  men  to  obedience  by  the 
portraiture  of  future  happiness  or  misery.^ 

It  is  the  old  Semitic  conception  of  the  other  life.  The 
Babylonian-Assyrian  literature  which  we  possess  is  as  reti- 
cent as  the  Hebrew  respecting  the  future  as  a  moral 
element  of  the  present  life.  Penitential  psalms,  where  if 
anywhere  we  might  expect  a  reference  to  the  other  life,  con- 
fine themselves  altogether  to  this  world.  The  poem  which 
describes  the  descent  of  the  goddess  Ishtar  to  Sheol  gives 
indeed  a  striking  picture  of  the  underworld  and  its  gates 
and  bars  and  its  presiding  goddess,  but  has  nothing  to  say 
of  rewards  and  punishments  for  earthly  lives.  The  case  is 
the  same  with  such  fragments  as  remain  of  older  Phoenician 
literature,  and  with  the  pre-Islamic  Arabian  poetry.  The 
silence  is  all  the  more  remarkable  when  we  compare  it  with 
the  full  and  varied  declarations  of  the  Egyptian  ritual.  For 
the  Egyptian  the  world  below  was  a  completely  organized 
kingdom ;  divine  judges  scrutinized  each  man's  life  and 
meted  out  to  him  his  fit  portion  of  reward  or  punishment. 
The  future  was  ever  present  in  men's  minds  as  an  incentive 
to  good  living ;  there  was  the  hope  of  entrance  into  the 
blessed  abodes  and  of  assimilation  to  the  gods  themselves, 
and  the  fear  of  degradation  and  suffering.  From  time  im- 
memorial this  elaborate  scheme  had  existed  in  Egypt;  and 

1  An  ingenious  hut  unwarranted  turn  is  given  to  this  fact  in  Warhurton's 
"  Divine  Legation  of  Moses." 


ESCHATOLOGY.  383 

that  the  Israelites  remained  so  long  strangers  to  it  is  proof 
that  they  were  never  in  lively  intellectual  intercourse  with 
their  Southern  neighbors  till  the  Greek  conquest  established 
a  Jewish  colony  in  Alexandria.  There  was  in  this  regard  a 
great  gap  between  the  Egyptian  and  Semitic  races.  We  may 
perhaps  refer  the  silence  of  the  Semites  on  this  point  to  their 
lack  of  constructive  imagination.  The  divine,  indeed,  was 
ever  present  to  them  as  a  main  factor  in  life.  God  forced 
himself  on  their  notice  in  all  the  phenomena  of  nature. 
They  felt  in  extraordinary  degree  the  pressure  of  the  out- 
ward powers,  —  powers  which  determined  the  actual  course  of 
their  daily  lives,  which  shaped  their  fortunes  and  demanded 
their  reverence.  As  practical  men  of  the  world  they  felt  the 
necessity  of  recognizing  and  propitiating  the  divine.  But 
this  very  practicalness  of  nature  led  them  to  ignore  that 
unseen  world  which  could  not  force  itself  on  their  attention 
by  any  visible  or  tangible  phenomenon.  The  result  of  their 
cool  judgment  was  that  the  nether  realm,  to  which  all  men 
indeed  must  descend,  stood  apart  from  the  present  life,  in- 
capable in  any  perceptible  way  of  influencing  its  issues. 
Their  imagination  recoiled  from  the  effort  of  solving  its 
mysteries.  A  similar  lack  of  constructive  power  among  the 
Semites  is  visible  in  other  departments  of  thought.  They 
have  no  drama,  no  metaphysic.  With  immense  power  of 
dealing  with  current  facts  (especially  those  relating  to  com- 
merce and  religion),  they  have  never  succeeded  in  the  organi- 
zation of  conceptions.  Imagination  they  have,  but  only  in 
the  sphere  of  the  actual  and  practical.  For  them  the  under- 
world was  too  remote  to  tempt  them  to  the  invention  of  a 
nether  organized  community.  This  is  part  of  the  explana- 
tion of  the  enormous  success  of  the  Jews  in  practical  life. 
They  concentrated  their  efforts  on  the  present.  Here  on  this 
earth  in  the  clash  and  conflict  of  this  life,  they  served  God 
and  their  age  after  their  fashion,  and  looked  for  rewards  and 


384  ESCHATOLOGY. 

punishments.  And  that  high  spirituality  may  go  along  with 
such  a  negative  conception  of  the  future  is  abundantly  proved 
by  the  glowing  spiritual  utterances  of  the  Old  Testament. 

We  have  already  observed  a  general  and  gradual  increase 
of  spirituality  in  the  pre-Christian  Jewish  literature,  a  dis- 
tincter  sense  of  the  vital  ethical  relationship  between  God 
and  the  human  soul.  This  feeling  of  the  dependence  of  man 
on  God,  the  longing  of  the  heart  fur  friendly  intercourse, 
miglit  very  well  exist  without  belief  in  immortality;  it  might 
and  doubtless  often  did  spring  partly  from  a  profound  sense 
of  ethical  weakness  and  desire  for  ethical  perfectness,  and 
partly  from  the  non-ethical  feeling  of  the  need  of  protec- 
tion ;  ^  it  might  have  its  roots  in  sentiments  which  belonged 
wholly  to  the  present  life.  But  it  also  naturally  connected 
itself  with  another  human  instinct,  —  the  desire  for  continu- 
ance and  permanence.  There  is  little  indication,  as  has  already 
been  remarked,  in  the  Hebrew  feeling  of  the  Old  Testament 
times,  of  a  projection  of  such  hope  beyond  the  grave;  yet  we 
can  hardly  doubt  that  many  a  man  of  those  times  looked 
curiously  across  the  gulf  that  separated  the  present  from  the 
future  and  asked  himself  what  it  was  that  the  God  of  Israel 
had  in  store  for  his  people ;  to  many  a  one  there  would 
come  perhaps  a  glimmer  of  hope,  or  a  more  or  less  distinct 
demand  of  the  soul.  This  demand  and  this  hope  would  be 
heightened  by  the  increasing  spirituality  of  the  concei)tion  of 
the  relation  between  God  and  his  people.  The  devout  soul, 
conscious  that  its  life  was  in  God,  would  more  and  more 
recoil  from  the  prospect  of  banishment  from  him ;  intense 
desire  might  lift  itself  into  the  form  of  belief.  There  had 
long  been  faith  in  national  immortality ;  the  prophets  think 

^  These  two  elements  must  be  c-ucfully  distinniiislicd  in  tlic  I'siihns.  Not 
every  appeal  to  God  is  spiritual.  Tliero  is  niucli  ndigionsncss  that  is  uneth- 
ical, —  a  mere  selfish  desire  for  aid,  which  is  a  feeling  common  to  man  with  the 
lower  animals.  It  is  not  sufficient  that  God  be  invoked ;  there  must  be  the 
effort  to  attain  communion  of  soul  witli  liim  as  tiie  ideal  of  holiness. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  385 

of  the  people  as  continuing  forever.  As  the  sentiment  of 
individuality  became  more  sharply  defined,  the  pious  soul, 
one  miglit  expect,  would  be  less  and  less  satisfied  with  this 
communal  continuance  of  life,  and  would  assert  its  rights  to 
its  own  individual  permanence  in  and  by  virtue  of  its  rela- 
tion to  God.  And  of  this  forthreacliing  of  the  soul  toward 
everlasting  life,  there  may  be  indications  in  the  psalm- 
passages  quoted  above,  —  not  distinct  declarations  nor  cer- 
tain hopes,  but  dim  surmises  and  longings.  Such  feelings 
could  hardly  have  been  general ;  the  tone  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment respecting  immortality  is  too  distinctly  negative  to 
permit  such  a  supposition.  Perhaps  a  few  gifted  souls 
passed  beyond  the  limits  of  the  current  thought ;  there 
was  possibly  a  definite  desire  which  might  be  the  germ  of 
a  doctrine  of  immortality.  But  a  defined  doctrine  there 
was  not.  Up  to  the  beginning  of  the  second  century  B.  c, 
there  was  no  such  conception  of  life  beyond  the  grave  as 
furnished  moral  support  and  stimulus  for  the  present  life. 
Job,  Psalms,  Proverbs,  the  books,  in  which  if  anywhere 
we  should  expect  to  find  the  best  outcome  of  thought  in 
this  direction,  still  occupy  the- old  Semitic  point  of  view. 

It  is  in  a  book  written  under  Greek  influence  that  we 
find  the  first  distinct  declaration  of  a  real  doctrine  of  immor- 
tality. About  the  beginning  of  the  second  century  B.  c, 
three  books  were  composed  by  Jewish  writers,  who  sought 
to  set  forth  a  finished  conception  of  wisdom,  —  that  wisdom 
which  was  esteemed  to  be  the  highest  quality  of  man,  the 
broad  and  high  conception  of  life,  which  was  held  to  lift 
man  above  its  ills,  to  ally  him  with  its  highest  powers,  and 
endow  him  with  its  greatest  blessings.  Of  these  books,  that 
which  is  most  decidedly  negative  in  tone  (reflecting  prob- 
ably the  Greek  sceptical  philosophy  of  the  time),  Eccle- 
siastes,  was  received  into  the  third  Jewish  canon,  on 
grounds  which  are  discussed  above.  It  not  only  completely 
25 


386  ESCHATOLOGY. 

ignores  the  future  life,  but  treats  the  present  as  something 
which  offers  no  high  hope;  it  defines  wisdom  as  a  large 
and  genial  economy  of  resources,  a  pleasant,  forbearing, 
sceptical,  and  catholic  moderation.  The  second  work,  Eccle- 
siasticus,  which  resembles  in  form  the  canonical  book  of 
Proverbs,  was  apparently  composed  in  Palestine,  and  cer- 
tainly under  the  control  of  old  Jewish  modes  of  thought. 
Though  modern  and  fresh  in  its  material,  and  full  of  striking 
and  suggestive  remark,  it  has  no  word  to  say  of  the  future 
life.  In  marked  contrast  with  the  other  two,  the  ^Yisdom 
of  Solomon,  which  shows  unmistakable  signs  of  the  influ- 
ence of  Platonic  and  Stoic  ideas,  treats  immortality  as  an 
established  fact,  as  one  of  the  main  elements  of  the  present 
life.  The  old  question  which  so  troubled  and  indeed  dis- 
couraged and  staggered  many  Jewish  thinkers —  he  inter- 
pretation of  the  sufferings  of  the  righteous  and  the  prosperity 
of  the  wicked  —  causes  our  author  no  anxiety.  He  does 
not  even  discuss  it;  he  assumes  the  solution  to  lie  in  the 
life  beyond  the  grave,  where  the  inequalities  of  the  present 
life  shall  be  equalized,  where  righteous  and  wicked  shall 
receive  their  just  compensations  and  take  their  true  i)laces 
in  God's  world. 

One  might  then  suspect  that  it  was  in  some  Alexandrian 
Jewish  circle,  tinged  with  Greek  thought,  that  the  doctrine 
of  a  true,  everlasting  life  took  distinct  shape.  Yet  it  is 
not  easy  to  find  the  Greek  thought  of  that  period  which 
might  have  suggested  or  determined  such  a  faith.  Eccle- 
siastes  was  written  by  a  man  who  had  tasted  the  Hellenic  cul- 
ture of  his  day  ;  but  the  point  whicli  he  reached  was  as  far  as 
possible  from  the  confident,  joyous  tone  of  belief  in  immor- 
tality. It  may  be  surmised  that  it  was  from  the  school 
which  had  established  itself  at  Gyrene  that  he  took  the 
hue  of  his  conception  of  life;  he  has  the  cool  scepticism 
and  good-natured  indifference  of  the  earlier  Cyrenaic  philoso- 


ESCHATOLOGY.  387 

phy,  which  might  often  be  combined  with  strict  ethical 
principle  and  exemplariness  of  life.  It  was  not  here  that 
the  author  of  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon  got  his  inspiration. 
It  was  rather,  if  we  are  to  look  to  a  Greek  source,  from 
some  current  of  the  old  Platonism  which  survived  the  dis- 
solution of  the  original  systems  of  philosophy.  In  the  third 
century  B.  c.  men  began  to  grow  weary  of  metaphysical 
speculation  and  to  seek  for  practical  schemes  of  life.^  Stoi- 
cism and  Epicureanism  split  up  into  various  schools,  which 
all  tended  toward  the  same  ethical  result  and  toward  the 
same  metaphysical  negations.  But  in  Alexandria  there  was 
something  which  might  quicken  afresh  the  hopes  concern- 
ing the  future.  The  Egyptian  people  maintained  their  faith 
in  the  life  beyond;  their  literature  and  their  art,  which 
could  not  remain  wholly  unknown  to  Jews  and  Greeks, 
kept  the  reality  of  this  life  prominent  before  men's  eyes. 
The  whole  of  Egyptian  thought  was  so  permeated  and  col- 
ored by  a  living  faith  in  the  tremendous  importance  of  the 
future  existence  that  no  thoughtful  foreigner  could  fail  to 
be  impressed  by  it.  It  was  seed  which  might  find  favor- 
able soil  among  both  Jews  and  Greeks;  for  both  these 
peoples  there  were  lines  of  hope  or  belief  going  back  gen- 
erations to  honored  names,  which  might  impel  certain  minds 
to  look  with  intense  interest  on  the  spectacle  of  a  nation 
which  thus  realized  and  honored  the  life  to  come.  It  was, 
perhaps,  from  a  fusion  of  these  lines  of  thought  that  the 
well-defined  theory  of  immortality  came  into  the  world.  The 
Greek,  trained  in  habits  of  philosophic  reflection,  might 
find  himself  disposed  to  adopt  the  essential  ethical  content 
of  the  Egyptian  scheme,  while  he  rejected  the  local  mytho- 
logical machinery.  But  for  him  it  would  still  be  only  a 
philosophical  opinion.  The  Jew,  seizing  on  this  Egyptian 
hope,  purified  by  Greek  philosophy,  could  raise  it  to  the 
1  On  the  history  of  Greek  philosophy  after  Plato,  see  Zeller. 


388  ESCHATOLOGY. 

dignity  of  a  religious  dogma.  "When  once  it  had  com- 
mended itself  to  his  mind  as  the  solution  of  the  highest 
problems  of  life,  he  would  find  hints  or  demonstrations  of 
it  in  his  own  Scriptures,  in  the  lives  of  the  patriarchs,  in 
the  translation  of  Enoch  and  Elijah,  in  the  words  of  the 
prophets,  in  the  spiritual  longing  of  the  Psalms.  Such 
was  the  method  of  Philo  a  couple  of  centuries  later,  and 
such  seems  to  have  been  the  method  of  the  author  of  the 
Wisdom  of  Solomon ;  at  least  one  would  be  inclined  to 
infer  that  the  review  which  he  gives  of  the  Israelitish  his- 
tory at  the  close  of  his  book  is  regarded  by  him  as  an  illus- 
tration of  the  doctrines  of  immortality  and  wisdom  with 
which  he  begins.  The  Jews,  like  other  nations,  have  always 
found  in  their  Scriptures  suggestions  or  proofs  of  beliefs 
which  they  from  time  to  time  adopted. 

There  is  no  complete  documentary  proof  of  the  view  above 
suggested.  But  it  appears  that  while  the  national  devel- 
opment of  the  native  Jewish  thought  had  not  up  to  the 
beginning  of  the  second  century  led  to  a  belief  in  immor- 
tality, the  doctrine  is  announced  by  a  Jew  who,  wdiile  an 
orthodox  and  fervent  adherent  of  his  own  national  religion, 
was  yet  materially  influenced  by  foreign  ideas.  We  are  thus 
naturally  led  to  refer  the  origin  of  the  doctrine  to  a  fusion 
of  the  Jewish  and  non -Jewish  elements. 

3.  In  like  manner  the  closely  related  idea  of  a  bodily 
return  from  the  underworld  is  probably  to  be  accounted 
for  by  the  influence  of  foreign  thought.  The  doctrine  of 
the  resurrection  of  the  dead  appears  for  the  first  time  toward 
the  middle  of  the  second  century  b.  c.  The  germ  of  such 
a  belief  has  been  supposed  to  exist  in  purely  Jewish  parts 
of  the  Old  Testament,  in  Ezekicl's  vision  of  the  dry  bones 
(Ezek.  xxxvii.),  in  Isa.  xxvi.  19,  in  Job  xix.  25-27,  and  in  some 
of  the  Psalms  (Ps.  xvi.  10;  xvii.  15).  One  might  even  be 
disposed  to  say  that  the  dimness  of  the  old  Hebrew  con- 


ESCHATOLOGY.  389 

ception  of  the  underworld  would  naturally  lead  to  the  idea 
of  the  resuscitation  of  the  dead.  So  strong  was  the  hold 
which  the  earth  and  earthly  life  had  on  the  Jew,  so  intense 
his  conviction  that  the  enjoyment  of  God,  whether  bodily 
or  spiritual,  pertained  to  this  present  worldly  existence,  that 
if  his  religious  instinct  should  demand  a  perpetuation  of 
happy  life,  he  would,  it  might  be  supposed,  naturally  think 
of  its  sphere  as  mundane,  and  its  conditions  as  those  which 
belong  to  man's  present  and  visible  activity;  it  would  be  the 
man  of  body  and  soul  whom  he  would  naturally  imagine  as 
the  bearer  of  truth  and  the  recipient  of  blessing  from  the 
divine  hand.  Yet  however  natural  such  an  idea  might  seem 
to  be,  there  is  no  trace  of  it  in  Jewish  literature  before  the 
second  century  b.  c.  We  have  already  seen  how  vague  was 
the  conception  of  the  future  life  in  general ;  and  there  is 
little  reason  to  suppose  a  development  of  the  idea  of  resur- 
rection while  the  Slieol  of  that  day  remained  unquestioned. 
The  passages  above  cited  have  really  nothing  to  do  with  the 
resurrection  ;  the  prophet  Ezekiel  himself  explains  (xxxvii. 
11-14)  that  in  the  vision  of  the  revivification  of  the  dead 
bones  he  means  to  give  a  symbolical  prediction  of  the  resto- 
ration of  Israel  to  its  own  land.  It  was  not  that  the  in- 
dividual should  live  again  after  death,  but  that  the  nation, 
though  crushed  and  shattered  and  politically  dead,  should 
not  perish,  but  should  be  lifted  into  an  everlasting  political 
life.  The  reference  in  Isa.  xxvi.  19,  as  appears  from  the 
whole  course  of  thought  (see  verses  15  and  20),  is  to  a  similar 
national  restoration.  The  passage  in  Job,  so  far  as  can  be 
gathered  from  the  corrupt  text,  declares  that  the  sufferer 
shall  see  God,  not  in  his  flesh,  but  apart  from  it.  The  Six- 
teenth Psalm  is  a  profession  of  satisfaction  and  delight  in 
Yahwe,  not  in  the  future,  but  in  the  present  life ;  and  the 
"  awaking  "  of  Psalm  xvii.  refers,  as  the  context  almost  cer- 
tainly indicates,  to  this  present  life  of  ethical-religious  prob- 


390  ESCHATOLOGY. 

lems,  in  which  the  psahnist  purposes  to  attain  to  trust  and 
tranquillity  in  spite  of  the  rampant  prosperity  of  the  wicked. 
The  translations  of  Enoch  and  Elijah  are  not  examples  of 
resurrection,  hut  exceptional  cases  of  removal  from  earth 
without  the  ordinary  process  of  death,  —  a  survival  of  the 
primitive  belief,  according  to  which  heroes  were  elevated  to 
positions  in  the  abode  of  the  gods. 

It  is  apparently  to  n on- Jewish  sources  that  we  must  look 
for  the  formulation  of  the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection.  The 
conception  of  the  bodily  re-clothing  of  man  after  death  had 
been  in  the  world  a  long  time  before  it  appears  in  Jewish 
books.  It  is  found  in  rude  forms  in  primitive  faiths,  and 
had  survived,  in  developed  shape,  in  various  religions,  though 
the  Semites,  with  their  unimaginative  scepticism,  seem  to 
have  rejected  it  altogether.  In  the  form  of  transmigration 
of  souls  it  was  held  by  the  Egyptians  and  the  Hindus. 
There  is,  however,  no  indication  that  the  Jews  of  this  period 
came  into  contact  with  the  religious  thought  of  India ;  and 
the  Egyptian  doctrine  seems  not  to  have  been  distinct  or 
impressive  enough  to  suggest  what  we  find  in  the  Jewish 
belief  of  the  time.  It  is  probably  to  another  point  that  we 
have,  to  look.  The  book  of  Daniel,  which  contains  the  first 
statement  of  the  resurrection  in  the  Old  Testament,  shows 
considerable  acquaintance  with  Babylonian  and  Old  Persian 
history,  and  points  to  a  connection  with  the  Tigris-Euphrates 
region.  The  author  writes  like  a  man  who,  dwelHng  in  what 
had  formerly  been  the  native  land  of  Cyrus,  had  there  met 
with  a  real  though  apparently  not  perfectly  correct  his- 
torical tradition,  and  had  come  into  contact  with  the  ideas 
of  the  place.  Certain  traces  of  Persian  influence  in  the 
book  have  already  been  referred  to ;  the  angelology  has  ob- 
viously a  Persian  coloring,  and  it  would  seem  that  we  must 
seek  in  the  Persian  eschatology  the  origin  of  the  autlior's 
doctrine  of  resurrection. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  391 

Our  information  respecting  Persian  religious  beliefs  of 
this  period  is  unfortunately  very  meagre.  The  inscriptions 
of  the  first  Achtemenian  princes,  the  earliest  extant  Per- 
sian documents,  are  concerned  mainly  with  political  affairs, 
and  their  religious  utterances  are  naturally  brief  and  in- 
direct. If  the  date  of  the  Avestan  writings,  in  the  form  in 
which  we  now  possess  them,  could  be  definitely  fixed,  we 
should  be  able  to  speak  more  advisedly  of  the  Persian  dog- 
mas of  the  fourth  and  third  centuries  B.  c. ;  but  the  best 
Avestan  scholars  regard  the  data  as  insufficient  to  deter- 
mine the  chronology  with  exactness.  All  that  can  be  said 
is  that  Magism  (probably  a  Median  form  of  faith)  obtained 
a  firm  footing  in  Persia  during  the  fifth  century  B.  a  So 
much  we  may  infer  from  the  description  of  Persian  customs 
given  by  Herodotus  (I.  131-140),  in  which  the  Magi  appear 
as  the  only  official  priests.  Herodotus  says  nothing  of  the 
Magian-Persian  doctrine  of  the  future  life  ;  ^  but  the  details 
given  by  Theopompus  (fourth  century  B.  c),  as  quoted  by 
Plutarch  (Isis  and  Osiris,  47),  lead  us  to  suppose  that  a 
doctrine  of  the  resurrection  existed  in  his  time.  At  the 
end  of  the  contest  between  Oromazes  and  Areimanios,  says 
Theopompus,  Hades  will  be  abandoned,  and  men  will  be 
happy,  neither  needing  food  nor  casting  a  shadow  ;  that  is 
to  say,  they  will  be  endowed  with  new  spiritual  bodies.  The 
supposition  that  the  Magian-Persian  religion  recognized  the 
bodily  resurrection  as  early  as  the  fourth  century  b.  c.  is 
not  at  all  opposed  to  what  we  otherwise  know  of  the  per- 
sistence of  the  Zoroastrian  dogma.  If,  as  seems  probable, 
the  Avestan  writings  existed  substantially  in  their  present 
form  some  centuries  before  the  beginning  of  our  era,  it  is 
likely  that  this  doctrine,  connecting  itself,  as  it  does,  so 
naturally  with  the  whole  Zoroastrian  scheme,  had  already 
assumed  definite  shape  as  early  as  the  Greek  conquest.     It 

1  But  cf.  Herod.  III.  62. 


392  ESCHATOLOGY. 

might  have  come  to  the  knowledge  of  Alexandrian  Jews 
through  such  Greek  writings  as  those  of  Theopompus,  while 
it  would  linger  in  the  Persian  population  still  found  in  the 
Tigris  region,  and  there,  as  has  already  heen  suggested,  find 
its  way  to  the  Jewish  colony  which  was  at  that  time 
marked,  as  we  have  good  reason  to  believe,  by  eager  intel- 
lectual activity.  The  Jews  have  ever  been  willing  borrow- 
ers of  other  nations'  opinions ;  and  such  an  idea  as  that  of 
the  resurrection  of  the  body  would  harmonize  with  one  side 
of  Jewish  thought  and  be  absorbed  by  Jewish  theology. 
The  idea  of  the  permanence  of  the  national  life  had  always 
been  cherished  by  Israelites,  and  at  a  time  when  the  hope 
of  deliverance  was  keen,  and  the  interposition  of  God  was 
looked  for,  the  suggestion  that  the  nation's  dead  would  be 
called  back  to  earth  to  share  in  the  nation's  life  n:iight 
meet  with  welcome  reception  from  ardent  Jewish  thinkers 
and  believers.  Its  progress  might  be  slow ;  a  couple  of  cen- 
turies might  elapse  before  it  would  be  generally  accepted. 
It  would  naturally  be  adopted  slowly  and  cautiously  by  the 
leaders  of  Jewish  thought,  with  such  modifications  as  the 
old  Jewish  national  faith  suggested.  The  books  of  Psalms, 
Proverbs,  and  Ecclesiasticus  know  nothing  of  it,  and  the 
Mosaic  law  is  equally  silent.  The  doctrine  seems  never  to 
have  been  received  by  the  Sadducees  (Matt.  xxii.  xxiii.),  the 
priestly  representatives  of  the  old  Mosaic  orthodoxy.  At 
first,  as  might  be  anticipated,  the  bodily  resuscitation  seems 
to  have  been  limited  to  Israel ;  such  appears  to  be  the  idea 
in  Daniel  (xii.  1-3).  Israel  alone,  it  was  ai)parently  sup- 
posed, was  worthy  of  the  supreme  blessing  of  the  everlast- 
ing perpetuation  of  the  earthly  life.  Other  peoples  might 
be  left  to  endure  the  inanity  of  the  shadowy  existence  in 
Slieol ;  they  liad  no  covenant  with  God  ;  there  was  no  reason 
why  they  should  be  lifted  again  into  the  struggle  of  earthly 
life.     Indeed,  it  might  have  appeared  necessary  for  the  peace 


ESCHATOLOGY.  393 

of  the  chosen  people  that  they  alone  should  possess  the 
earth,  though  on  this  point  there  was  probably  indefinite- 
ness  and  difference  of  opinion.  Daniel  recognizes  two  classes 
of  Israelites,  one  of  which  should  awake  to  everlasting  life, 
the  other  to  shame  and  everlasting  contempt.  Here  is  the 
germ  of  the  conception  of  a  moral  distinction  among  those 
who  were  raised  from  the  dead.  In  process  of  time  the 
doctrine  of  bodily  resuscitation  connected  itself  with  that 
of  final  judgment,  and  with  it  approached  the  form  of  uni- 
versality. This  development  of  the  doctrine  seems  to  have 
been  formulated  not  long  before  the  beginning  of  our  era. 
The  second  book  of  Maccabees  (vii.  9,  14,  23),  a  work  of 
uncertain  date,  possibly  to  be  put  about  100  B.  c,  apparently 
affirms  resurrection  only  of  Israel.  One  of  the  seven  brothers 
says  to  the  king :  "  It  is  good,  being  put  to  death  by  men, 
to  look  for  hope  from  God  to  be  raised  up  again  by  him. 
As  for  thee,  thou  shalt  have  no  resurrection  to  hfe."  On 
the  other  hand,  the  Parables  of  the  book  of  Enoch  appear 
to  speak  of  a  general  resurrection.  "  In  those  days,"  says 
the  writer,  "  the  earth  will  return  that  intrusted  to  it,  and 
Sheol  will  return  that  intrusted  to  it,  which  it  has  received, 
and  Hell  will  return  what  it  owes,"  —  apparently  a  declara- 
tion that  all  men,  good  and  bad,  will  rise  from  the  dead. 

How  far  the  doctrine  of  a  general  resurrection  prevailed 
during  the  first  century  of  our  era  is  not  clear.  It  is  found 
in  the  Fourth  Gospel  (v.  23,  29),  and  apparently  in  the 
Apocalypse  (xx.  12),  These  books  probably  vouch  for  its 
prevalence  toward  the  end  of  the  century.  But  in  the 
Synoptics  and  the  writings  of  Paul  and  his  school,  though 
there  is  much  about  immortality  and  judgment  and  the 
resurrection  of  believers,  no  stress  is  laid  on  the  rising  of 
all  men ;  it  is  even  doubtful  whether  it  is  affirmed.  Paul, 
in  his  argument  for  the  resurrection  (1  Cor.  xv.),  treats  the 
rising  from  the  dead  as  a  purely  Christian  hope  belonging 


394  ESCHATOLOGY. 

to  believers  by  virtue  of  their  union  with  Christ.^  Eom.  ii. 
1-16  and  2  Cor.  v.  10  speak  only  of  judgment,  and  in  the  lat- 
ter passage  it  is  not  certain  that  the  "  we  "  includes  any  but 
Christians.  He  everywhere  lays  stress  on  the  resurrection 
of  Jesus  in  such  a  way  as  to  show  that  he  regards  the  raised 
body  of  the  Redeemer  as  the  pledge  and  the  centre  of  the 
future  blessed  bodily  existence  of  believers,  as,  therefore, 
offering  no  hope  to  the  world  at  large.  The  ground  adduced 
in  the  First  Gospel  (xxii.  31,  32)  for  the  resurrection  relates 
only  to  the  chosen  people  :  "  I  am  the  God  of  Abraham  and 
the  God  of  Isaac  and  the  God  of  Jacob ;  God  is  not  the  God 
of  the  dead,  but  of  the  living."  ^  The  parables  of  the  tares 
and  of  the  net,  and  the  great  assize  (Matt.  xiii.  xxv.),  aftirm 
not  a  general  resurrection,  but  only  the  separation  of  the 
righteous  and  the  wicked  at  the  end  of  the  age.  AVe  might 
thus  be  led  to  suspect  that  the  doctrine  in  its  general  form 
did  not  establish  itself  till  toward  the  end  of  the  first  cen- 
tury, when  Christianity  had  with  some  definiteness  separated 
from  Judaism.  Such  a  view  would  find  support  in  the  fact 
(Weber,  "System,"  §  88)  that  the  Talmudic-Midrashic  litera- 
ture recognizes  only  a  resurrection  of  Israelites,  holding  it 
to  be  a  part  of  the  reward  of  the  righteous.  In  truth,  the 
restoration  to  bodily  life  is  generally  treated  in  the  New 
Testament  as  a  reward  of  Christian  faith.  For  unbelievers 
there  was  no  risen  Redeemer,  no  definite  centre  of  activity 
in  the  coming  life.     It  might  have  been  felt  tliat  for  them 

'  ThoTi£!;h  he  introflnces  two  general  considerations,  —  one  (ethically  low), 
that  without  hope  of  the  future  there  would  he  no  sufficient  reason  for  well- 
doing (verse  32),  the  other  hased  on  the  analogy  of  plant-life  (verse .36), — 
he  does  not  make  a  general  application. 

2  The  argument,  as  stated,  goes  to  estahlish  not  resurrection,  hut  immor- 
tality ;  but  it  seems  that  the  former  was  regarded  as  included  in  the  latter,  a 
proof  that  the  idea  of  resurrection  was  thoroughly  ingrained  in  the  popular 
belief.  The  Old  Testament  passage  cited  (Ex.  iii.  6)  contains,  in  the  inten- 
tion of  its  author,  no  liint  of  immortality,  but  merely  the  declaration  that 
God  would  be  faithful  to  tlie  promises  made  to  the  fathers. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  395 

it  was  enough  that  they  were  abandoned  to  an  endless  exist- 
ence of  suffering.  We  must  then  suppose  that  the  broader 
idea  of  the  Enoch-Parables  (h.)  did  not  for  a  long  time  ob- 
tain general  recognition/  and  was  finally  established  through 
the  social  inteicourse  that  promoted  belief  in  the  equal 
moral  responsibility  of  all  men.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is 
possible  that  the  idea  existed,  and  is  only  not  made  promi- 
nent or  distinctly  brought  out,  because  interest  was  concen- 
trated on  the  Church.  In  fact,  the  conception  of  a  general 
resurrection  seems  allied  to  that  of  a  general  judgment.  In 
any  case  it  appears  that  resurrection  is  treated  practically 
in  the  New  Testament  (and  this  is  true  largely  even  in  the 
Apocalypse  and  the  Fourth  Gospel)  as  a  reward  of  be- 
lievers. Its  psychological  basis  is  the  desire  for  the  con- 
tinuance of  human  life,  of  which  the  body  was  regarded 
as  a  necessary  element,  though  this  body  might  be  thought 
of  as  perfected  into  a  fit  dwelling-place  for  the  regenerated 
soul  (1  Cor.  XV.  44). 

4.  Hand  in  hand  with  the  three  just  mentioned  the  doc- 
trine of  a  last  judgment  advanced  to  its  final  formulation, 
proceeding  from  a  national  to  a  universal  form.  The  gen- 
eral notion  of  a  divine  decision  respecting  human  conduct, 
with  appropriate  rewards  and  punishments,  belongs  to  the 
essence  of  the  conception  of  the  deity.  It  is  found  loosely 
expressed  in  primitive  faiths,  and  in  developed  religions  is 
more  definitely  embodied  in  persons,  in  the  Egyptian  Osiris, 
the  Hindu  Indra,  the  Persian  Ahuramazda,  the  Babylonian 
Shamash,  the  Greek   Zeus,  and  the   Eoman  Jupiter.^     The 


1  It  is  open  to  the  critic  to  suggest  that  the  Enoch-passage  in  question 
has  been  touched  by  a  Christian  hand.  Otherwise  it  is  not  easy  to  account 
for  its  ineffectiveness.     The  paucity  of  data  makes  the  history  obscure. 

2  It  may  be  left  undecided  whether  or  how  far  the  Jewish  development  of 
the  idea  was  affected  by  foreign  influences  At  Alexandria  the  Egyptian 
elaborate  apparatus  of  underworld-judgment  and  the  Athenian  opinion  (Plato, 
Apology  32)  would  be  well  known.     But  the  form  in  which  the  Jewish  idea 


396  ESCHATOLOGY. 

progress  of  the  idea  was  along  three  Hues :  the  ethical 
element  become  more  and  more  prominent ;  individualism 
took  the  place  of  nationalism ;  and  the  judgment,  from 
being  a  purely  earthly  procedure,  came  to  be  regarded  as 
the  boundary  between  this  life  and  the  next.  The  history 
of  the  Jewish-Christian  movement  may  be  traced  in  general 
outline,  though  the  data  leave  much  to  be  desired  in  fulness 
and  precision. 

The  ethical  progress  is  tolerably  well  indicated  in  Old 
Testament,  Apocrypha,  and  New  Testament.  There  is  steady 
advance  in  the  standard  of  individual  morality.  In  the  Jew- 
ish scheme,  however,  the  moral  judgments  attributed  to  God, 
though  otherwise  pure  and  high,  are  never  quite  free  from 
the  taint  of  nationalism.  From  the  eighth  century  b.  c.  on, 
Yahwe  is  a  just  God  within  the  national  limits,  punishing 
unsparingly  the  sins  of  his  own  people;  but  foreign  nations 
are  judged  mainly  according  to  their  relations  of  friendliness 
or  unfriendliness  with  Israel.^  To  be  hostile  to  Israel  was 
itself  a  crime;  and  this  non-ethical  standard  of  judgment 
clung  to  Judaism  down  to  the  times  of  the  Talmud.  Chris- 
tianity did  not  wholly  escape  a  similar  limitation.  Though 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  declares  that  God  will  judge  men 
simply  according  to  the  moral  character  of  their  conduct, 
the  followers  of  Jesus  put  the  Church  into  the  place  of  the 
national  Israel,  and  made  acceptance  of  Jesus  as  Messiah 
the  basis  of  the  divine  decision  (2  Thcss.  i.  8 ;  1  Cor.  xvi.  22 ; 

is  worked  out  (Daniel,  Enoch,  etc.)  does  not  suggest  Greek  influence,  and 
may  be  accounted  for  from  native  materials. 

1  Sec,  for  example,  Amos  i.  ii.,  Isa  x.,  Nahum,  Obadiaii,  Joel  iii.  {Jlch. 
iv.),  aud  the  very  different  estimates  of  Babylon  given  by  the  prophets  of 
Nebuchadnezzar's  time  (Jer.  xxv.  9 ;  xxix.  7  ;  xxxviii.  17  ;  Ezek.  xxix.  17-21) 
and  those  who  lived  when  Cyrus'  approach  was  expected  (Isa.  xiii.  xiv. 
xlvi.  xlvii. ;  Jer.  I.  li  ).  Jeremiah  aud  Ezekiel  have  not  one  unkind  word  to 
say  of  Babylon,  because  it  was,  in  their  opinion,  the  protector  of  Israel ;  but 
the  Babylonian  kingdom,  though  its  moral  character  could  not  have  changed 
materially  in  fifty  years,  is  denounced  so  soon  as  it  is  regarded  as  hostile. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  397 

1  John  V.  10).  ]\Ien  were  to  be  judged  by  their  works  (Rev. 
XX.  12),  but  the  "  works  "  included  belief  in  the  Christ.  The 
general  ethical  standard  was  high,  but  a  controlling  non- 
ethical  condition  was  introduced. 

Nevertheless,  there  was  a  gradual  recession  from  the  old 
nationalistic  point  of  view ;  that  is,  the  individual  came 
more  and  more  to  be  the  human  unit.  The  beginning  of 
this  movement  is  seen,  as  has  already  been  pointed  out,  in 
such  passages  as  Ezek.  xviii.,  which  affirms  a  moral  distinc- 
tion in  the  judgments  on  Israelites.  The  progress  is  clearer 
in  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon  and  in  the  sayings  of  the  law- 
yers, which  treat  character  without  respect  to  nationality. 
The  mingling  of  peoples  during  the  two  centuries  preceding 
the  beginning  of  our  era  led,  in  the  better  minds,  to  a  par- 
tial obliteration  of  national  lines ;  the  feeling  arose  that  there 
was  a  definite  relation  between  God  and  every  human  being. 
The  individual  was  no  longer  swallowed  up  in  the  com- 
munity. It  is  doubtful,  as  is  intimated  above,  whether  the 
divine  judgment  was  ever  in  the  Jewish  and  Christian  de- 
velopments completely  sundered  from  religious  dogma.  It 
was  probably  held  that  character  acceptable  to  God  could 
never  be  attained  apart  from  certain  religious  beliefs  peculiar 
to  Judaism  or  Christianity.  But  it  was  a  great  point  gained 
when  the  conviction  was  established,  as  a  living  principle, 
that  each  man  must  give  account  of  himself,  that  the  divine 
judgment  would  be  meted  out  to  each  on  his  own  merits. 
This  principle,  on  which  the  New  Testament  everywhere 
insists,  existed  indeed  elsewhere,  but  was  firmly  planted  in 
society  by  the  powerful  agency  of  Christianity. 

The  conception  of  a  universal  judgment  was  involved  in 
the  developed  Hebrew  religion.  Yahwe  was  king  and  guard- 
ian of  his  people ;  and  in  order  that  he  might  assign  them 
their  proper  position  in  the  world,  it  was  necessary  that 
other  nations  should  be  cited  before  the  divine  tribunal  and 


398  ESCHATOLOGY. 

judged  for  their  offences  against  the  chosen  people.  In  the 
pre-exilian  and  exihan  prophets  God  is  represented  as  admin- 
istering punishment  to  the  enemies  of  Israel  from  time  to 
time,  as  occasion  demanded.  A  more  formal  judicial  pro- 
cedure is  hinted  at  in  Joel,  Zechariah  (xiv.),  and  some  of  the 
Psalms  (xcvi.  xcviii.).  The  apocalyptic  books  of  the  second 
century  B.  c.  introduced  more  definitely  the  idea  of  a  sum- 
ming up  of  things  and  the  inauguration  of  Israel's  reign 
by  a  general  divine  judgment  (Dan.  vii. ;  Enoch  i.).  In 
Daniel  (xii.)  this  consummation  is  not  unnaturally  con- 
nected with  the  return  of  dead  Israelites  to  bodily  life,  — the 
pious  to  share  in  the  national  triumph,  the  apostates  to 
suffer  merited  punishment.  God  was  the  judge ;  and  the 
scene  of  the  judgment  and  of  tlie  succeeding  life  was  on 
the  earth,  probably  Palestine  (Enoch  Ixxxix.  40).^  It  was 
a  reconstruction  of  earthly  society,  with  Israel  as  centre 
and  lord.  This  was  the  simple  national  and  earthly  idea 
of  the  final  divine  judgment  that  prevailed  up  to  about  the 
middle  of  the  second  century  B.  c.  Two  other  articles  of 
faith,  recently  adopted  by  the  Jews,  then  took  their  place 
in  the  scheme  and  gave  rise  to  some  complication  of  views,  — 
these  were  the  expectation  of  a  personal  Messiah,  and  the 
belief  in  immortality. 

It  was  only  gradually  that  the  deliverer,  who  finally  re- 
ceived the  title  of  Messiah,  was  brought  into  connection 
with  the  judgment.  In  the  prophets  he  is  a  Davidic  king, 
employing  the  usual  means  of  a  polilical  leader  to  secure 
national  success  ;  in  Daniel  he  disappears,  and  the  agent 
of  salvation  is  the  angel  Michael ;  in  the  original  Enoch 
and  the  Psalter  of  Solomon  he  is  a  human  leader.  Up  to 
this  point  he  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  final  authorita- 
tive reconstruction  of  the  world.     But  there  soon  arose  a 

1  In  Enoch  i.  the  place  of  judgment  seems  to  be  Mount  Sinai,  though  this 
is  not  clear. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  399 

new  conception  of  his  person  and  function  ;  he  was  repre- 
sented as  being  of  a  very  exalted  (though  not  divine) 
nature,  and  the  immediate  conduct  of  the  final  judgment 
was  assigned  to  him.  Whether  this  new  function  was  in- 
ferred from  the  new  nature,  or  the  nature  from  the  func- 
tion, or  both  arose  out  of  the  same  conditions,  it  is  not 
easy  to  say.  It  is  in  the  Enoch-Parables  that  the  higher 
idea  of  the  Messiah  first  appears.  Here  he  is  the  chosen 
one,  set  apart  from  all  eternity,  hidden  and  then  revealed, 
who,  endowed  with  all  wisdom,  sits  on  his  throne,  receives 
homage,  judges  powerful  kings  and  all  sinners,  and  dis- 
penses rewards  and  punishments.  The  same  conception  of 
Messianic  judgment  is  contained  in  the  earliest  of  Paul's 
writings  (1  Thess.  iv. ;  2  Thess.  i.),  and  perhaps  in  2  Cor. 
V.  10  ;  it  is  involved  in  the  apocalyptic  letters  to  the 
churches  (Ptev.  ii.  23),  and  is  distinctly  affirmed  in  2  Tim. 
iv.  1  and  John  v.  27.  On  the  other  hand,  in  the  apocalyptic 
pictures,  and  especially  in  the  great  judicial  scene  at  the 
end  of  the  book  (Eev.  xix.  xx.)  it  is  not  quite  clear  whether 
it  is  God  or  the  Messiah  who  is  the  judge.  The  I^amb 
opens  the  sealed  book  (v.),  and  all  men  flee  from  his 
wrath  (vi.  16) ;  but  seals,  trumpets,  and  bowls  usher  in  only 
preliminary  judgments,  and  the  day  of  final  decision  is  still 
in  the  future.  When  that  day  comes,  it  is  apparently  God 
before  whose  throne  the  dead  appear  (xx.  11).^  In  the 
Synoptics  the  Messiah  appears  as  judge  (as  in  2  Thess.) 
in  the  apocalyptic  discourse  (Mark  xiii..  Matt,  xxiv.,  Luke 
xxi.),  and  in  the  judgment-scene  of  Matt.  xxv.  According 
to  the  later  Jewish  view  (Weber,  "  System,"  §  88),  as  it 
would  seem,  the  final  judgment  is  conducted  by  God. 

1  The  similarity  between  the  royal  functions  of  the  Messiah  in  the  Enoch- 
ParaV)les  and  the  New  Testament  Apocalypse  is  of  such  sort  as  to  snjjgest 
that  the  one  was  taken  from  the  other,  or  that  the  two  issue  out  of  the  same 
circle  of  views.  This  favors  the  hypothesis  that  the  Apocalypse  contains  a 
Jewish  basis  which  has  been  built  upon  by  a  Christian  hand. 


400  ESCHATOLOGY. 

The  evidence,  with  the  exception  of  that  of  the  Enoch- 
Parables,  points  to  a  Christian  origin  for  the  conception  of 
the  Messiah  as  final  judge.  In  any  case  this  function  is 
closely  connected  with  an  idealization  of  his  person,  which 
lifted  him  above  the  ordinary  human  sphere,  —  an  exalta- 
tion that  is  explained  more  naturally  from  Christian  con- 
ditions (following  on  the  disappearance  of  Jesus  from  earth), 
but  cannot  be  said  to  be  impossible  for  an  earlier  Jewish 
circle  of  thought.  It  is  possible  that  Paul's  view  was 
affected  by  some  current  opinion  like  that  of  the  Parables 
(the  date  of  which  is  probably  not  long  after  B.  c.  40).  A 
Jewish  idealization  of  the  Messiah,  arising  from  reflec- 
tion on  the  great  role  assigned  him  as  national  deliverer, 
may  have  coalesced  with  a  similar  Christian  tendency.  In 
the  Old  Testament  (as  in  Ps.  ii.)  the  king  of  Israel  is  repre- 
sented as  ruling  all  tlie  nations,  whence  to  his  elevation  to 
the  position  of  judge  at  God's  right  hand  (see  Ps.  ex.)  it 
would  be  no  great  step.  It  is  always  as  God's  vicegerent 
that  the  Messiah  exercises  his  judicial  functions  (John  v.  22  ; 
cf.  1  Cor.  XV.  24).  That  the  conception  of  the  Messiah  as 
judge  was  gradually  accepted  by  the  Church  of  the  first  cen- 
tury may  perhaps  be  inferred  from  the  infrequency  of  refer- 
ence to  it  in  the  New  Testament.  Of  the  history  of  the  idea 
in  the  period  between  the  Enoch-Parables  and  the  First  Epis- 
tle to  the  Thessalonians  we  have  no  certain  information. 

So  long  as  the  Jews  had  no  effective  and  universal  doc- 
trine of  immortality,  the  divine  judgment  was  necessarily 
conceived  of  as  confined  to  the  earth.  Daniel,  the  Sibyl, 
the  original  Enoch,  and  the  Psalms  of  Solomon  picture  the 
future  in  a  vague  way  as  the  destruction  or  subjugation 
of  foreign  nations  and  the  establishment  of  Israel  in  per- 
petual peace  and  prosperity  through  the  protecting  presence 
of  God.  The  judgment  ushers  in  only  a  change  of  earthly 
relations ;    there   is   a   resurrection,  but   the   abode   of    the 


ESCHATOLOGY.  401 

blessed  people  is  still  the  earth,  though  the  earth  trans- 
figured (see  Isa.  Ixv.  17;  Enoch  xc.  33 ;  of.  2  Pet.  iii.  13). 
There  appears  to  be  no  material  advance  in  the  ethical 
representation  in  the  Enoch-Parables ;  the  antithesis  is  in 
form  a  general  one,  between  the  just  and  the  evil,  but  the 
evil  are  the  enemies  of  Israel,  and  Israel's  new  place  of 
abode  is  the  earth  (xlv.  5).  Throughout  the  book  of  Enoch 
(x,  liv.)  judgment  is  passed  on  evil  angels  as  well  as  on 
evil  men.  It  is  apparently  in  the  Parables  that  the  belief 
in  immortality  first  shows  itself  in  connection  with  the 
judgment ;  the  just  enjoy  everlasting  life  (xxxvii.,  Iviii.) ;  sin- 
ners dwell  in  endless  shame  (xlvi.  6).  Here  is  the  germ 
of  a  new  signification  of  tlie  expressions,  "  age  to  come  "  and 
"kingdom  of  God,"  or  "kingdom  of  heaven."  The  age  to 
come  is  essentially  the  era  of  social  regeneration,  ushered 
in  by  the  God-appointed  deliverer,  to  endure  forever,  and 
this  is  the  kingdom  of  God  or  of  heaven.  It  was  origi- 
nally the  happy  life  of  the  chosen  of  God  on  the  earth ;  the 
general  effect  of  the  introduction  of  the  full  idea  of  im- 
mortality was  to  transfer  it  to  heaven,  and  to  make  the 
judgment  a  formal  winding-up  of  all  earthly  affairs,  with 
discontinuance  of  the  present  earthly  life.  Put  a  complete 
assimilation  of  this  new  element  was  not  effected  at  once; 
the  New  Testament  presents  slightly  varying  views  of  the 
judgment  and  of  the  future.  Most  of  the  Epistles,  absorbed 
in  the  present  needs  of  the  struggling  Church,  content 
themselves  with  looking  to  the  coming  of  Christ  (thought 
to  be  impending)  for  the  judgment  which  was  to  introduce 
his  followers  into  eternal  bliss.  Second  Peter  (iii.  13)  re- 
gards this  earth  as  the  scene  of  the  future  life;  and  the 
same  expectation  is  perhaps  contained  in  Eom.  viii.  19, 
where  the  outward  creation,  groaning  in  the  pain  of  sin,  is 
represented  as  looking  eagerly  for  deliverance  in  the  revela- 
tion of   the  sons  of  God,  though  Paul  elsewhere  (1  Thess. 

26 


402  ESCHATULOGY. 

iv.  17)  appears  to  hold  a  diflerent  opinion.  In  general  it 
seems  to  be  the  larger  idea  of  immortality  that  the  Epis- 
tles have  in  view,  a  state  the  conditions  of  which  differ 
from  those  of  earthly  life  (so  also  Matt.  xxii.  30).^  The 
Synoptics  give  signs  of  the  Messiah's  appearance,  and  de- 
scribe a  final  general  judgment  (Matt,  xxiv.,  xxv.).  The 
Fourth  Gospel  omits  all  particulars,  presenting  only  the 
moral-religious  conflict  of  earthly  life  and  the  fact  of  final 
judgment  (v.)  The  Apocalypse  has  a  series  of  partial  judg- 
ments, a  preliminary  imprisonment  of  Satan  during  the 
millennial  reign  of  the  saints,  and  a  final  universal  judg- 
ment (xx.).  The  kingdom  of  God  is  viewed  sometimes  as 
present  (1  Cor.  iv.  20;  Eom.  xiv.  17),  sometimes  as  in  the 
future  (^latt.  vii.  21 ;  viii.  11 ;  2  Tim.  iv.  11);  that  is,  it  is  a 
constitution  of  things  beginning  now  and  having  its  culmi- 
nation and  completion  in  the  future.  "This  age"  (ren- 
dered "  this  world ''  in  the  English  version)  is  the  present 
condition  of  things  reaching  up  to  the  coming  of  Christ  to 
judgment  (Gal.  i.  4;  Matt.  xii.  32;  Tit.  ii.  12);  the  final 
decision  is  made  at  the  end  of  the  age  (Matt.  xiii.  40).  The 
"  age  to  come "  is  the  period  following  the  appearance  of 
the  Messiah.  According  to  the  Jewish  view  it  is  still  in 
the  future,  since  the  Messiah  has  not  come.  In  the  Chris- 
tian conce})tion  it  has  a  double  meaning;  it  may  be  his- 
torical Christianity  introduced  by  Jesus  (Heb.  vi,  5  ;  Eph. 
ii.  7,  "ages  to  come"),  or  the  period  following  the  final  ]\Ies- 
sianic  judgment  (Mark  x.  30  ;  Matt.  xii.  32).  In  Heb.  ix.  26 
Christ  is  said  to  have  been  manifested  and  sacrificed  "now 
once  at  the  end  of  the  ages,"  and  with  this  is  contrasted 
his  second  coming  to  judgment  (verse  28).  The  double  mean- 
ing of  the  expression  was  natural ;  it  signified  the  reign  of 

1  See  2  Tho.ss.  i. ;  1  Cor.  i.  8  ;  xv.  ;  2  Cor  v  10  ,  Mom.  ii  If. ;  I'liil.  i  0  ;  2 
Tim.  iv.  1  ;  Ileh.  vi.  2;  ix.  27;  1  Pet.  iv.  :, ,  v  10;  2  IVt.  i.  1 1  ;  Judo  21  ; 
1  John  iv.  17.  James  and  First  Timothy  have  only  the  expectation  of  tlie 
coming  of  Christ,  and  Galatians  is  occupied  with  salvation  and  eternal  life. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  403 

truth,  the  time  of  adjustment,  when  the  wrongs  of  the 
present  should  be  righted,  when  the  righteous  should  enjoy 
the  dignity  that  was  properly  theirs  in  a  world  governed 
by  a  righteous  God,  and  the  wicked  should  pay  the  penalty 
of  their  impious  defiance  and  their  unnatural  worldly  pros- 
perity. The  first  fruits  of  that  blessed  time  appeared  under 
the  Messiah's  earthly  rule  ;  the  consummation  could  be 
reached  only  when  earthly  existence  was  over  and  men's 
destinies  were  fixed  in  an  endless  existence  beyond  the 
grave.  The  first  phase  was  introductory  to  the  second; 
for  the  individual  and  for  the  nation  or  Church  the  future 
blessedness  was  the  continuation  and  completion  of  the 
earthly  peace,  —  a  conception  that  could  not  assume  per- 
fect shape  till  immortality,  heaven,  and  hell  had  become 
familiar  ideas. 

The  Church  received  the  doctrine  of  judgment  from  Juda- 
ism, and  introduced  the  additions  mentioned  above  with- 
out always  discarding  Jewish  local  views,  which  should 
have  been  set  aside  by  the  spirit  of  Christianity.  This  is 
true  of  the  old  belief  that  the  Jewish  nation  should  be 
permanently  established  in  political  independence  in  its 
own  land.  Such  in  fact  is  the  declaration  of  the  prophets 
(Ezek.  xxxvii.  25  and  many  other  passages).  Christianity 
in  general  substituted  the  Church  for  the  nation,  and  in- 
terpreted the  prophetic  promises  as  signifying  the  conver- 
sion of  the  Jews  to  faith  in  Jesus,^  —  an  interpretation  which 
is  exegetically  unsound,  but,  if  held,  completely  sets  aside 
the  expectation  of  political  permanence.  In  spite  of  this 
there  have  always  been  Christian  circles  which  held  after 

1  Paul  does  not  entirely  escape  confusion  of  thought  on  this  point.  After 
making  an  argument  (Rom.  iv. ;  ix.  7,  8 ;  x.)  from  the  Old  Testament  to  show 
that  the  promises  were  not  to  the  bodily  descendants  of  Abraham  but  to  all  who 
had  like  faith  with  him,  he  cites  similar  passages  (Rom.  xi.  25,  26)  to  prove 
that  the  bodily,  national  Israel  shall  all  be  saved.  His  exegesis  is  controlled 
at  one  time  by  his  religious-dogmatic  feeling,  at  another  by  his  patriotism. 


404  ESCHATOLOGY. 

the  dispersion  of  the  Jews  to  their  restoration  to  Palestine 
as  part  of  the  final  divine  settlement  of  earthly  affairs. 

5.  The  formulation  of  the  doctrines  of  immortality  and  judg- 
ment was  accompanied  by  the  reconstruction  of  the  theory  of 
the  future  life.  The  old  Hebrew  idea  of  Sheol  as  the  color- 
less abode  of  all  the  dead  gradually  gave  way  to  the  repre- 
sentation of  a  place  of  happiness  for  the  righteous  and  a 
place  of  punishment  for  the  wicked.  The  growing  sense 
of  ethical  individuality  demanded  the  future  meting  out  of 
proper  reward  to  earthly  moral-religious  character,  and  the 
details  of  existence  beyond  the  grave  were  gradually  worked 
out.  The  Egyptians  had  a  well-developed  system  of  re- 
wards and  punishments  in  the  underworld,  but  the  idea 
remained  strange  to  the  Semites.  The  conception  of  "  hell " 
is  not  found  in  the  Old  Testament ;  ^  there  is  no  local 
distinction  in  Sheol  between  good  and  bad,^  no  apparatus 
of  reward  and  punishment.  The  reward  of  the  righteous 
is  long  life  on  earth  (Prov.  iii.  16) ;  the  punishment  of  the 
wicked  is  premature  death  (Prov.  x.  27).  The  first  departure 
from  the  old  conception  of  the  future  is  found  in  the  book 
of  Daniel  (xii.  2)  in  connection  with  the  idea  of  resurrec- 
tion ;  of  those  Israelites  who  are  raised  to  life,  it  is  said, 
some  will  be  happy  and  some  wretched.  Enoch  similarly 
describes  the  punishment  of  bad  Israelites  (xxvii.  2  ;  xc.  26) 
and  of  evil  angels  (x.  6,  14 ;  xc.  24,  25  ;  liv.)  at  the  judgment. 
In  the  Parables  (liv.,  Ivi),  the  punishment  is  not  confined 
to  Jews,  but  falls  on  all  wicked  men.  In  the  early  days  of 
the  ]\Iaccabean  struggle  it  was  only  Israelites  who  were 
included  in  the  scheme  of  resurrection  ;  later,  it  was  ex- 
tended to  include  all  men.    In  Enoch  there  is  an  abyss  (x.) 


1  Ahaddou,  "  destitictiou  "  (Job  xxvi.  6;  xxviii   22  ,  Prov.  xv.  11)  is  sim- 
ply a  synonym  of  Sheol. 

2  In  such  passages  as  Ezck.  xxxi.  18;  Isa.  xiv   9,  tlie  point  is  the  over- 
throw of  mighty  and  insolent  enemies  of  Israel. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  405 

or  valley  (liv.)  of  fire  prepared  for  the  disobedient  angels  ; 
so  in  Matt.  viii.  29,  the  demons  look  forward  to  a  time 
when  their  torment  is  to  begin.  In  the  Parables  (liv.,  Ivi.), 
human  sinners  (that  is,  enemies  of  Israel)  are  cast  into  the 
valley  of  fire. 

How  did  the  Jews  reach  the  practical  conception  of  re- 
wards and  punishments  after  death  ?  Were  they  driven  to 
it  by  moral-religious  feeling,  —  by  their  sense  of  the  in- 
equalities and  injustices  of  this  life  ?  In  that  case  we 
should  expect  to  find  hints  of  the  idea  in  such  books  as 
Psalms  and  Proverbs  ;  but  there  are  no  such  hints.  On 
the  other  hand,  its  first  affirmation  in  the  existing  literature 
occurs  in  connection  with  a  doctrine  which  we  have  seen 
reason  to  believe  was  developed  under  Persian  influence, 
and  in  Enoch  it  stands  in  close  relation  with  the  demon- 
ology.  Are  we  to  see  the  influence  of  Persian  thought  here 
also  ?  The  data  hardly  warrant  an  answer  to  this  ques- 
tion :  we  know  too  little  of  the  Persian  dogma  of  that  time. 
Nor  can  we  look  to  Egypt.  The  idea  seems  not  to  have 
arisen  in  the  Jewish  colony  in  Egypt,  nor  is  there  great 
resemblance  between  the  Jewish  and  the  Egyptian  schemes. 
The  details  in  Enoch,  such  as  the  valley  and  the  fire  and 
the  chains,  may  have  been  suggested  by  the  Old  Testament 
or  by  the  ordinary  imagination.  Of  the  main  idea  we  can 
only  say  that  the  Jewish  moral  consciousness  was  prepared 
for  it  and  that  it  arose  out  of  the  conditions  of  the  time. 
It  was  familiar  to  the  Egyptians  and  not  unknown  to  the 
Greeks.  Once  suggested  to  the  Jews,  it  would  supply  what 
they  had  probably  been  conscious  of  needing.  Attached  to 
the  doctrine  of  resurrection  it  would  accord  with  funda- 
mental Israelitish  beliefs.  Confined  at  first  to  members  of 
the  chosen  people,  it  would  come,  by  the  growth  of  ethical 
feeling,  to  embrace  other  nations. 

Christianity  took  the  conception  from  Judaism.    The  rep- 


406  ESCHATOLOGY. 

resentation  of  future  punishment  in  the  New  Testament  is 
substantially  the  same  as  that  of  Enoch.  The  specific  term 
for  hell  is  Gehenna  (Matt.  v.  22  ;  Jas.  iii.  6),  the  "  valley  of 
Hinnom,"  the  spot  consecrated  to  the  old  Moloch-worship 
(2  Kings  xxiii.  10  :  Isa.  xxx.  33  ;  Ixvi.  24),  an  abominable 
place  of  filth  which  became  the  symbol  of  future  torment. 
Elsewhere  "  Hades  "  (in  Greek,  the  dwelling-place  of  all  the 
dead)  is  used  in  very  much  the  same  sense  (Matt.  xi.  23  ; 
Luke  xvi.  23 ;  Rev.  xx.  13,  14).  "When  specific  terms  had 
been  devised  for  the  abode  of  happiness,  the  general  Greek 
term  was  applied  to  the  other  division  of  the  life  beyond.^ 
It  was  conceived  of  in  general  as  a  subterranean  place 
of  torment.  The  tormenters,  however,  are  apparently  not 
Satan  and  the  demons,  who  are  themselves  tormented,  but 
the  good  angels  appointed  by  God  to  that  office  (Enoch  liii. 
liv.  ;  Rev.  xx.  10).  It  seems  to  be  intimated  by  Paul  that 
the  saints,  the  believers  in  Jesus,  are  to  take  part  in  the 
final  judgment  of  wicked  men  and  disobedient  angels  (1  Cor. 
vi.  2,  3) ;  but  it  is  not  said  in  what  relation  they  are  after- 
ward to  stand  to  the  lost.  In  the  parable  of  the  rich  man 
and  Lazarus  (Luke  xvi.  19-31)  it  is  declared  that  bodily 
communication  between  the  denizens  of  Paradise  and  those 
of  Hades  is  impossible,  there  being  a  great  gulf  between 
them  (verse  26) ;  yet  the  sufferer  appeals  to  Abraham,  whom 

^  Except  in  the  Synoptics  and  the  Apocalypse,  almost  nothing  is  said 
of  hell  in  the  New  Testament.  James  (iii.  6),  looking  on  it  as  the  locus 
and  representative  of  all  evil,  speaks  of  its  setting  the  tongue  on  fire ;  Jude 
(6,  1.3)  and  Second  Peter  (ii.  4,  17)  have  mention  of  the  honds  in  which 
the  disobedient  angels  are  held  in  darkness  unto  judgment  (Second  Peter 
calls  the  place  of  punishment  Tartarus)  and  of  the  blackness  of  darkness 
reserved  for  certain  false  teachers.  Elsewhere  only  general  expressions, 
such  as  "  destruction  "  and  "  condemnation  of  the  devil,"  are  employed. 
This  reticence  may  be  explained  in  part  from  the  practical  aim  of  the  Epis- 
tles, which  are  mo.stly  occu])ied  in  meeting  actual  emergencies  and  build- 
ing up  the  life  of  the  Churcli ;  it  may  also  be  true  that  the  conception  of 
the  place  of  punishment  became  distincter  and  more  familiar  after  Paul's 
time. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  407 

he  supposes  to  be  invested  with  authority,  and  begs  him  to 
send  Lazarus  on  a  mission  of  mercy.^ 

As  to  the  duration  of  future  punishment,  the  general  doc- 
trine of  the  New  Testament  is  that  it  is  to  be  without  end, 
—  it  is  to  endure  as  long  as  the  blessed  life  of  the  righteous 
(Matt.  XXV.  46  ;  Rev.  xx.  10,  15  ;  xxi.  4,  8,  27;  xxii.  5,  11, 
15).  Such  is  the  representation  of  Paul  in  First  Corinth- 
ians. The  abolition  of  death  (1  Cor.  xv.  26,  54)  is  not  the 
abolition  of  the  suffering  of  the  wicked,  but,  as  is  clear  from 
Eev.  xxi.  14  and  2  Tim.  i.  10,  the  annulment  of  all  suffer- 
ing for  the  righteous  and  the  beginning  of  the  endless  tor- 
ment of  the  unrighteous.  It  is  doubtful  how  we  are  to 
understand  the  declaration  in  Colossians  (i.  20),  that  it  was 
God's  purpose  to  reconcile  to  himself  through  Christ  all 
things  on  earth  and  in  the  heavens.  From  a  comparison 
of  other  statements  in  the  Epistle  (as  ii.  15,  where  Christ 
triumphs  over  the  principalities  and  the  powers,  and  iii.  4, 
where  at  the  manifestation  of  Christ  only  the  saints  are  to 
be  manifested  with  him  in  glory),  we  miglit  rather  conclude 
that  the  writers  intention  is  to  ascribe  all  reconciliation  to 
Christ,  but  not  to  affirm  such  a  pleroma  or  fulness  in  Christ 
or  such  a  summing  up  of  things  (Eph.  i.  10,  AnakepJia- 
laiosis)  as  would  exclude  that  retribution  for  evil  doing 
which  everywhere  else  in  the  New  Testament  is  assumed 
to  be  an  essential  part  of  the  divine  government  of  the  uni- 
verse. If,  however,  we  are  to  see  here  the  conception  of  a 
final  reconciliation  between  God  and  his  creatures,  a  blot- 
ting out  of  evil  in  the  sense  that  it  shall  be  transformed 
into  good,  a  complete  harmonizing  of  the  universe  so  that 
neither  angel  nor  man  shall  be  found  to  set  himself  against 
the  divine  ethical  order,  then  we  must  hold  this  view  to 
spring  out  of  a  philosophical  thought  which  does  not  find 

1  This,  however,  may  be  merely  a  part  of  the  framework  of  the  parable,  in- 
troduced simply  to  bring  out  the  final  character  of  the  doom  of  the  departed. 


408  ESCHATOLOGY. 

support  elsewhere  in  the  New  Testament,  and  which  did 
not  afterward  meet  with  wide  approbation  in  the  Church. 

So  soon  as  the  idea  of  a  future  hfe  of  compensation 
and  happiness  for  the  good  was  established,  the  question 
would  arise  in  men's  minds  where  the  abode  of  the  right- 
eous should  be.  This  subject  has  been  mentioned  above 
from  time  to  time.  The  points  may  be  summed  up  briefly. 
There  was  not  unnaturally  fluctuation  of  opinion.  The 
history  of  the  future  had  to  be  constructed  from  such 
data  as  were  at  hand,  and  the  data  were  indefinite  and 
to  some  extent  mutually  contradictory.  The  prophets  of 
course  thought  of  Jerusalem  as  the  centre  of  the  coming 
kingdom  of  bliss  (Isa.  Ixvi.),  and  this  continued  to  be  the 
national  Jewish  view.  A  new  Jerusalem,  as  the  capital  of 
the  Messianic  kingdom,  is  found  in  the  book  of  Enoch  (xc. 
29) ;  in  the  New  Testament  this  representation  is  given  in 
the  Apocalypse  (xxL,  xxii.).  The  earth,  according  to  this 
Jewish-Christian  conception,  was  to  be  the  home  of  the 
saved,  but  the  earth  reconstructed,  purified  from  all  evil, 
new  heavens  and  a  new  earth  (2  Pet.  iii.  13  ;  after  Isa. 
Ixv.  17 ;  Ixvi.  22),  the  abode  of  righteousness.  It  was  the 
conviction  that  man's  life  is  tied  to  this  earth,  modified 
by  the  feeling  that  a  regeneration  of  the  sin-stricken  exter- 
nal world  was  essential  (so  Paul  in  Kom.  viii.  18-22).  It 
is  doubtful  whetlier  the  earthly  Paradise,  the  reconstructed 
Eden  of  Genesis,  was  regarded  in  the  New  Testament  times 
as  the  future  abode  of  the  righteous.  Such  an  opinion  would 
be  not  unnatural ;  it  would  be  a  return  to  the  primitive 
blessedness  from  which  man's  transgression  had  expelled 
him.  The  history  of  the  world  would  then  become  the  rec- 
ord of  the  divine  movement  for  the  subjugation  of  the  pow- 
ers of  evil  which  had  intruded  themselves  into  the  first 
happy  creation  of  God.  There  is  a  hint  of  such  a  view  in 
the  Enoch-Parables  (Ixi.  12),  where  the  "garden  of  life"  is 


ESCHATOLOGY.  409 

the  dwelling-place  of  the  chosen.  The  same  spot  under  the 
name  of  the  "  garden  of  justice "  is  described  in  an  earlier 
portion  of  the  book  (xxxii.),  but  without  intimation  that  it 
was  assigned  to  the  chosen  as  their  habitation.  The  term 
"  paradise "  ^  is  indeed  employed  several  times  in  the  New 
Testament  to  designate  the  future  dwelling-place  of  the 
righteous,  but  the  locality  which  it  is  intended  to  mark  is 
left  uncertain.  In  the  Apocalypse  (ii.  7)  it  is  simply  men- 
tioned as  the  reward  of  those  who  overcome  ;  in  the  Third 
Gospel  (xxiii.  43)  it  is  the  abode  into  which  the  righteous 
enter  immediately  after  death  ("  To-day,"  says  Jesus  to  the 
malefactor,  "shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  Paradise") ;  Paul,  with 
somewhat  more  detiniteness,  seems  to  identify  Paradise  with 
the  third  heaven  (2  Cor.  xii.  2-4).  It  may  be  added  that 
the  expression  "  Abraham's  bosom  "  ^  (Luke  xvi.  22),  while 
it  signifies  a  state  of  content  and  happiness,  is  not  definite 
as  to  locality.  There  is  a  gulf  between  the  abode  of  the 
saved  and  that  of  tlie  lost,  but  whether  on  earth  or  in 
Sheol  or  in  some  celestial  region  is  not  said.  But  Chris- 
tian opinion  moved  toward  the  hope  of  a  future  dwelling 
with  Christ  in  some  bright  celestial  place.  "  We,"  says  Paul, 
"shall  be  caught  up  in  the  clouds  to  meet  the  Lord  in  the 
air,  and  so  shall  we  ever  be  with  the  Lord"  (1  Thess.  iv. 
17).     "Rejoice  and  be  exceeding  glad,"  we  read  in  the  Ser- 

'  The  word  {^apd^fiaos)  is  generally  held  to  be  of  Persian  origin  (ety- 
mology uncertain),  the  oi-iginal  sense  being  "park"  (Xen.  Anab.  i.  2,  7, 
etc.) ;  so  it  is  employed  in  the  Hebrew  Old  Testament  {parc/es,  only  in  very 
late  books,  Neh.  ii.  8;  Eccl.  ii.  5  ;  Cant.  iv.  1.3).  In  the  Septuagint  it  is  the 
rendering  of  the  "garden"  of  Eden  (Gen.  ii.  15)  ;  thence  it  easily  passed  to 
represent  the  future  abode  of  the  righteous.  See  Smith,  "  Dictionary  of  the 
Bible,"  art.  Paradise ;  Friedrich  Delitzsch,  "  Wo  lag  das  Paradies  1 "  Weber, 
"  System,"  §  7.5. 

'■2  The  expression  is  derived  from  the  Roman  habit  of  reclining  at  table. 
The  existence  of  the  saved  is  pictured  as  a  feast,  where  Abraham,  the  father 
of  the  Jewish  nation,  is  head  and  master,  and  the  righteous  man,  as  hon- 
ored guest,  reclines  with  his  head  on  the  bosom  of  the  patriarch  (cf.  Luke 
xiii.  29). 


410  ESCHATOLOGY. 

mon  on  the  IMount  (Matt.  v.  12),  "  for  great  is  your  reward 
in  heaven."  "  Wiien  Christ/'  says  one  epistle,  "  who  is  now 
seated  on  the  right  hand  of  God,  shall  be  manifested,  then 
believers  shall  with  him  be  manifested  in  glory "  (Col.  iii. 
1-4).  The  person  of  Christ  formed  the  centre  of  the  Chris- 
tian picture  of  the  future ;  happiness  was  the  being  with 
him.  But  beyond  the  feeling  that  there  was  to  be  no  suf- 
fering and  no  anxiety,  the  details  of  the  blessed  life  are 
not  given.  The  New  Testament  writers  are  concerned  with 
practical  affairs.  All  that  the  Church  needed  was  the  sup- 
port and  the  stimulus  of  the  transcendent  hope  of  coming 
blessedness. 

The  question  of  the  condition  of  men  between  death  and 
the  final  judgment  is  not  fully  treated  in  the  pre-Christian 
literature  or  in  the  New  Testament.  The  original  Enoch 
(xxii.)  divides  the  intermediate  abode  of  souls  into  several^ 
compartments.  One  is  for  the  righteous  who  (like  Abel) 
suffered  injustice  on  earth,  another  for  sinners  who  were 
not  punished  on  earth,  another  for  sinners  who  were  pun- 
ished on  earth,  their  fate  after  death  being  thereby  miti- 
gated. The  place  is  described  indefinitely  as  being  "  in  the 
west,"  but  is  apparently  in  the  underworld.  The  New  Tes- 
tament statements  or  allusions  present  a  simpler  scheme. 
Paul,  at  a  time  when  he  expected  to  witness  before  death 
the  coming  of  Christ  (1  Cor.  xv.  51,  52),  naturally  thought 
of  passing  from  earth  directly  into  the  presence  of  the  Lord 
(2  Cor.  V.  4-8) ;  at  a  later  period  (Phil.  i.  21-23)  he  speaks 
of  death  as  equivalent  to  union  with  Christ.^  The  Epistle 
to  the  Hebrews  (xii.  23)  regards  the  spirits  of  the  just  as 
already  made  perfect;  and  in  the  Apocalypse  (vi.  9-11)  the 
souls  of  the  martyrs  (like  the  soul  of  Abel  in  Enoch)  cry 

1  The  text  says  '  four,"  hut  only  three  can  he  clearly  made  out.  The 
numher  is  not  iujportant ;  the  fact  of  punishment  and  division  is  clear. 

■^  Yet  in  this  Epistle  also  (i  6,  10:  iii  20)  he  seems  to  expect  the  parou- 
sia  in  that  generation. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  411 

for  vengeance  on  their  slayers.  In  the  Lazarus-parable  the 
righteous  man  and  the  sinner  pass  immediately  to  their  re- 
wards, and  so  the  thief  on  the  cross.  The  reasonable  infer- 
ence is  that  in  the  main  teaching  of  the  New  Testament 
earthly  death  ushers  men  immediately  into  a  new  life  and 
fixes  their  destinies  forever  for  happiness  or  misery.  Such 
also  is  the  view  in  Daniel  (xii.)  and  in  Enoch  (xxii.,  cii., 
ciii.  ;  cf.  Wisd.  of  Sol.  iii.  10,  19  ;  v.).  Neither  annihilation 
nor  future  probation  can  be  affirmed  to  belong  to  the  pre- 
vailing doctrine  of  the  first  century.  Annihilation  was  a 
conception  foreign  to  Jewish  thought.  It  does  not  appear 
in  Ecclesiastes,  the  most  sceptical  of  pre-Christian  Jewish 
writings ;  it  is  found  nowhere  in  the  New  Testament.  The 
terms  "  destruction  "  and  "  death,"  so  often  used  to  describe 
the  future  state  of  the  wicked,  are  taken  from  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, and  are  obviously  intended  to  express  not  the  annul- 
ment of  existence  but  the  cessation  of  happy  activity.  Good 
and  bad  must  continue  to  live  after  bodily  death,  and  con- 
tinuing to  live,  must  accept  the  conditions  which  the  gov- 
ernment of  a  just  God  imposes.  Nor  is  tliere  any  trace  in 
pre-Christian  Jewish  literature  or  (with  one  exception)  in 
the  New  Testament  of  a  disciplinary  and  restorative  force 
in  future  suffering,  or  of  the  conception  of  a  moral  proba- 
tion continued  after  death.  The  prevailing  tone  of  the  Jew- 
ish thought  on  this  point  is  summed  up  in  the  word  of  the 
New  Testament  Apocalypse  (Eev.  xxii.  11)  :  "He  that  is  un- 
righteous, let  him  be  unrighteous  still,  and  he  that  is  holy, 
let  liim  be  holy  still."  Such  is  the  representation  in  the 
parable  of  the  rich  man  and  Lazarus  (Luke  xvi.),  —  there  is 
an  impassable  gulf  between  the  good  and  the  bad.  The  only 
New  Testament  passage  which  seems  to  teach  the  possibility 
of  repentance  and  salvation  after  death  is  the  obscure  para- 
graph in  the  First  Epistle  of  Peter  (iii.  18-20  ;  iv.  G),  where 
Christ  is  said  to  have  preached,  after  his  death,  in  the  spirit, 


412  ESCHATOLOGY. 

to  the  spirits  in  prison  ;  that  is,  as  it  seems,  to  those  men 
who,  disobedient  to  the  divine  command  in  the  days  of  Noah, 
were  now  in  bonds  in  the  underworld.  The  intention  of  the 
writer  of  the  Epistle  seems  to  be  to  represent  Christ  as 
preaching  the  Gospel  to  these  imprisoned  spirits  that  the 
possibility  of  believing  and  being  saved  might  be  offered 
them  (a  similar  view  is  found  in  the  Talmud).  But  this 
passage,  if  that  be  its  meaning,  stands  alone;  everywhere 
else  death  seals  man's  fate.  The  decisive  impetus  to  preach- 
ing came  from  the  conviction  that  what  was  to  be  done  for 
men  must  be  done  in  this  life.  The  most  dreadful  summing 
up  of  destiny  is  found  in  the  words,  "  Ye  shall  die  in  your 
sins"  (John  viii.  24).^ 

The  idea  of  moral  probation,  which  runs  throughout  the 
Hebrew  and  Christian  Scriptures,  being  indeed  at  the  bot- 
tom of  every  scheme  of  life,  is  modified  or  controlled  by  that 
conception  of  a  final  judgment  which  passed  over  from  Juda- 
ism into  Christianity.  The  antithesis  is  distinctly  stated  in 
Acts  xvii.  30,  31 :  "God  commands  all  men  to  repent,  inas- 
much as  he  has  appointed  a  day  in  which  he  will  judge  the 
world."  There  is  nothing  in  man's  view  of  his  own  nature 
that  should  lead  him  to  regard  death  as  putting  a  quietus 
on  free  moral  development.  Other  nations  had  doctrines  of 
continuous  growth  and  possibility  of  moral  revolution  and 
regeneration  in  the  life  beyond ;  but  the  Jewish  monarchical 
scheme  of  an  organized  kingdom  with  God  as  king,  follow- 
ing the  analogy  of  human  governments,  assumed  a  final  judi- 
cial sentence  passed  on  enemies  with  permanent  security  for 
citizens  of  the  kingdom.  It  was  an  external,  mechanical 
conception  of  human  life.  The  soul  of  man,  with  its  cease- 
less ethical  struggle,  was  lost  sight  of  in  the  i)icturc  (grand 

1  On  the  later  Jewish  view  of  the  condition  of  men  after  death  see  Weber, 
"  System,"  cap.  xxi.  The  Talmudic  doctrine  of  purgatorial  suffering  in  hell 
seems  to  have  arisen  after  the  first  century. 


ESCHATOLOGY.  413 

in  itself)  of  a  universe  forced  into  submission  to  an  all- 
powerful  ruler. 

Thus  Christian  thought,  following  on  a  long  course  of 
Jewish  growth,  reached  the  conception  of  a  highly  organ- 
ized kingdom  of  God  beginning  on  earth  and  completed  in 
heaven.  This  conception,  resting  on  an  ethical  basis  (though 
it  also  contained  non  ethical  elements),  satisfied  both  the 
desire  for  permanent  happiness  and  the  demand  for  moral 
perfection ;  it  included  present  holiness  and  future  blessed- 
ness. For  its  content  it  had  drawn  on  all  the  available 
resources  of  the  Western  world.  It  took  from  Jewish  and 
Persian  theology  and  eschatology  and  from  Greek  ethical 
philosophy  what  it  could  assimilate,  and  rejected  the  rest. 
Its  guide  was  the  Jewish  religious  instinct  enlightened  and 
broadened  by  contact  with  the  other  great  religious  systems 
of  the  time  and  the  region.  It  was  the  Israelitish  nation 
which  by  all  its  endowments  and  training  was  best  fitted 
to  undertake  the  organization  of  a  religion  for  the  world. 
But  the  Jews  could  not  alone  have  provided  all  that  was 
required,  and  but  for  the  social  unity  created  by  the  Greek 
and  Eoraan  empires  would  neither  have  felt  the  need  of 
foreign  help  nor  been  in  position  to  profit  by  it.  Paul,  the 
creative  mind  of  the  first  great  organizing  period  of  Chris- 
tianity, represents  Jewish  theology  constrained  and  impelled 
by  non-Jewish  surroundings. 

The  Jewish  scheme  of  national-political  supremacy  was 
soon  cast  away  by  the  disciples  of  Jesus,  and  in  its  place 
was  substituted  the  hope  of  the  future  triumph  of  the 
Church.  This  was  the  essence  of  Christian  eschatology,  and 
it  was  this  that  furnished  the  main  motive  power  of  Chris- 
tian effort.  The  New  Testament  throughout  holds  up  the 
rewards  of  the  future  as  the  incentive  to  present  holiness. 
The  eschatology  necessarily  shaped  itself  out  of  the  ideas 
of  the  time,  and  the  task  of  the  creators  of  Christianity 


414  ESCHATOLOGY. 

was  to  select  these  so  wisely,  with  such  combined  liberality 
and  sobriety,  that  the  result  should  offer  the  world  of  that 
time  just  what  it  needed  for  support  and  inspiration  in  the 
hard  struggle  of  life.  How  well  they  chose,  time  has  shown. 
But  for  this  distinct  and  reasonable  hope  of  the  future,  it 
may  safely  be  said,  Christianity  would  not  have  imposed 
itself  on  the  world  ;  it  would  have  shared  the  fate  of  Greek 
ethical  systems,  which  were  philosophically  lofty  but  lack- 
ing in  fulness  of  life. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  evident  that  the  Jewish-Christian 
conception  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  though  encumbered  with 
mechanical,  soteriological,  and  eschatological  elements,  re- 
posed on  an  ethically  practical  and  strenuous  scheme  of  the 
present  earthly  life.  Prophets  and  apostles  are  at  one  in 
holding  up  a  high  moral  standard  and  insisting  that  men 
are  to  suffer  or  enjoy  the  consequences  of  their  earthly  deeds. 
No  man,  they  say,  can  do  wrong  with  impunity.  The  pun- 
ishment of  evil  they  refer,  it  is  true,  not  to  a  divinely  con- 
stituted course  of  nature,  but  to  a  specific  divine  decree : 
in  any  case  it  is  just  and  inevitable.  No  one  can  enter  the 
kingdom  of  God  except  by  conforming  himself  to  the  eth- 
ically perfect  divine  will ;  the  new  man  is  created  in  holi- 
ness ;  the  essence  of  the  divine  kingdom  is  rigliteousness  ; 
whatever  a  man  sows,  that  he  shall  reap,  —  such  is  the  bur- 
den of  all  utterances  of  Old  Testament  and  New  Testament. 
Tliis  has  remained  a  permanent  element  of  Cliristianity.  The- 
ories of  atonement,  of  faith  and  works,  of  heaven  and  hell, 
have  changed  from  time  to  time  ;  the  ethical  conception  of 
life  has  stood  fast.  Apart  from  its  framework  of  dogmatic 
apparatus  Christianity  offered  the  world  of  the  first  century 
a  simple  working  theory  of  God  and  man,  —  God  just  and 
loving,  man  free  and  responsible.  By  its  dogma  it  was  at- 
tractive and  effective ;  on  its  ethical-religious  side  it  was 
worthy  of  its  triumph. 


CHAPTER  VITI. 

RELATION  OF  JESUS  TO   CHRISTIANITY. 

WE  have  thus  endeavored  to  trace  the  process  by  which 
Judaism,  the  rehgion  of  a  nation,  was  transformed 
into  Christianity,  a  religion  for  the  world.     We  have  fol- 
lowed the  progress  of  the  Israelitish  faith  in  its  efforts  to 
formulate  ideas,  to  organize  life,  to   rise  to  greater  spirit- 
uality, to  reach  the  breadth  which  the  advancing  thought 
of  the  people  d£manded.     At  a  certain  point  in  its  career 
a  new  faith  suddenly  sprang  into  existence,  which  from  a 
feeble  and  undefined  beginning   soon  assumed  an  assured 
and  vigorous  form.     It  first  showed  itself  as  a  new  con- 
ception of  that  kingdom  of  God  which  in  one  shape  and 
another   had   been   the  dream    of   the   pious    of  Israel   for 
many  centuries.     This  new  conception  was  a  startling  one. 
Whereas  prophets,  psalmists,  and  apocalyptists  had  thought 
of  the  ultimate  earthly  state  of  blessedness  as  a  moral  and 
political   reconstruction   of  the  nation,  —  political  indepen- 
dence and  perfection  of  national  obedience  to  the  Law, — 
Jesus  made  the  essence  of  the  new  life  to  be  the  purity 
of  the  individual  soul.     The  deliverer,  who  had  always  been 
conceived  of  as  a  temporal  king,  he  held  to  be  a  teacher 
sent  from  God  to  show  men  the  spirit  of  the  divine  law. 
While  he  said  nothing  of  an  abrogation  of  the  Mosaic  law 
or  of  the  equality  of  all  nations  in  the  sight  of  God,  he 
announced   principles  which  by  giving   paramount   impor- 
tance to  the  spiritual  tended  to  depress  the  ceremonial,  to 


416  EELATION   OF   JESUS   TO   CHRISTIANITY. 

abolish  outward  distinctions,  and  to  lead  to  the  conclusion 
that  all  men  stood  in  the  same  relation  to  God.  His  disci- 
ples, at  first  only  dimly  apprehending  his  spirit,  but  looking 
after  his  death  for  his  reappearance  as  the  divinely  promised 
deliverer  of  Israel,  gradually  formed  themselves  into  a  sep- 
arate society,  which  speedily  became  a  church.  Into  the 
new  organization  came  Gentiles,  —  men  who  stood  outside 
the  tradition  of  Jewish  national  custom,  and  valued  in  Chris- 
tianity other  than  its  purely  Jewish  ideas,  —  and  in  their 
interests  a  further  reconstruction  became  desirable.  This 
was  effected  mainly  by  the  Apostle  Paul,  under  whose  lead 
a  large  section  of  the  Church  threw  off  circumcision,  the 
badge  of  Jewish  nationality,  dispensed  in  general  with  Jew- 
ish ceremonial,  and  made  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ  the 
ground  of  salvation  and  the  centre  of  the  religious  life.  The 
expectation  of  his  speedy  reappearance,  becoming  by  degrees 
more  composed,  took  its  place  as  part  of  the  Christian  hope ; 
preparation  for  heaven  was  held  to  consist  in  religious-ethical 
faithfulness.  He  came  to  be  thought  of  as  the  eternal  Son 
of  God,  and  then,  under  the  influence  of  Greek  philosophy, 
as  the  eternal  Word,  the  reason,  utterance,  and  agent  of  God 
in  the  physical  and  spiritual  creation  and  maintenance  of 
the  world.  In  process  of  time  the  Church  passed  entirely 
out  of  the  hands  of  the  Jews  into  the  hands  of  the  Gentiles, 
entered  the  circle  of  Eoman  and  western  European  thought, 
and  submitted  to  those  changes  which  were  entailed  by  the 
progress  of  civilization.  What  is  the  relation  of  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  to  this  vast  movement  of  human  thought  ?  This 
question  has  been  touched  on  in  the  preceding  pages,  but 
we  may  here  attempt,  at  the  risk  of  some  repetition,  to  an- 
swer it  more  directly  and  fully. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  it  seems  evident  that  Jesus  announced 
those  germinal  principles  of  which  the  succeeding  history  of 
Christianity  is  only  a  development.    The  records  of  his  teach- 


RELATION   OF   JESUS  TO   CHRISTIANITY.  417 

iiifT  leave  much  to  be  desired.  His  words  are  not  always  cor- 
rectly reported,  and  there  are  not  a  few  interpolations  from 
later  tradition ;  nevertheless,  it  seems  possible  to  gather  from 
the  New  Testament  a  fairly  faithful  idea  of  the  spirit  of  his 
instruction. 

We  have  recognized  in  the  pre-Christian  Jewish  literature 
the  progress  which  the  Jewish  mind  was  making  in  ethical 
breadth  and  spirituality.  Various  thinkers  had  reached  very 
high  conceptions  of  the  principles  of  moral  conduct  and  of 
the  nature  of  religion  (Proverbs,  Psalms,  Wisdom  of  Solo- 
mon, Wisdom  of  the  Son  of  Sirach,  Ilillel).  There  was  an 
earnest  effort  to  grasp  spirituality ;  and  this  must  be  set  over 
against  the  tendency  of  the  extreme  Pharisaic  party  to  in- 
sist on  external  details  up  to  ihe  point  of  forgetting  sincerity 
and  spirituality.  It  was  by  no  means  a  religiously  torpid 
a'Te  ;  on  the  contrary,  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  there 
was  a  well-defined  feeling  of  discontent  in  the  best  minds, — 
a  desire  for  something  purer  and  higher  than  had  yet  been 
attained. 

It  was  Jesus  of  Nazareth  who  grasped  the  situation  as  no 
one  else  did,  and  in  response  to  the  demand  of  the  time 
came  forward  with  principles  wliich  satisfied  men's  highest 
moral  and  religious  instincts.  He  faced  at  once  the  burning 
questions  of  the  day  :  What  is  the  kingdom  of  God  ?  What 
is  salvation  ?  Ignoring  the  ecclesiastical  and  ritualistic  ma- 
chinery of  the  Jews,  he  declared  that  salvation  was  trust  in 
God  and  obedience  to  him.  Obedience  he  defined  to  be  im- 
itation of  the  divine  perfection,  which  he  summed  up  in  the 
two  qualities  of  justice  and  love,  or  in  love  alone,  which  in- 
cludes justice.  Sincerity  he  assumed  as  an  element  of  love, 
and  he  felt  himself  obliged,  as  has  been  the  case  with  all 
moral  teachers,  to  denounce  the  insincerity  of  the  religious 
leaders  and  practices  of  the  times.  Trust  in  God  he  held 
to  be  filial  confidence  in  the  divine  goodness  and  wisdom, 
27 


418  RELATION   OF  JESUS   TO   CTIKISTIANITY. 

hearty  sympathy  and  co-operation  with  the  divine  Father  in 
thought,  feeling,  word,  and  deed.  In  fine,  it  was  oneness 
with  God  in  spirit  which  he  announced  as  the  controlling 
principle  of  the  religious  life.  It  was  the  profound  con- 
viction that  this  was  the  essence  of  salvation  which  en- 
abled him  to  go  his  way  undisturbed  by  current  practices 
and  ideas.  Whatever  his  attitude  toward  the  transitory 
opinions  of  his  time  and  people,  he  never  relaxed  his  hold 
on  this  fundamental  and  formative  principle,  —  a  principle 
wdiich  gave  shape  to  all  succeeding  phases  of  Christianity. 
It  may  be  that  he  sympathized  with  a  half-Essenian  quiet- 
ism (Matt,  v.) ;  but  this  local  coloring  soon  vanished  in  the 
process  of  development,  and  the  great  principle  remained. 
Perhaps  his  intention  was  to  restrict  his  direct  teachhig  to 
the  Jews  as  the  chosen  people  of  God  (Matt.  x.  5,  6) ;  but 
this  was  a  limitation  which  could  not  survive  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  declaration  that  God's  love  was  bestowed  equally 
on  just  and  unjust  (Matt.  v.  45).  His  conception  of  the 
future  of  the  kingdom  of  God  may  have  included  some  of 
the  outward  details  of  the  popular  opinion.  Something  that 
he  said  may  have  been  understood  by  his  disciples  as  mean- 
ing that  he  himself  would  return  to  earth  to  establish  the 
kingdom  forever  (2  Thess.  i.  7,  8  ;  but  against  this  there  is 
the  apparent  hopelessness  of  the  two  disciples  in  Luke  xxiv. 
17,  21).  But  this  expectation,  so  long  and  so  anxiously  held 
by  the  Church,  did  not  modify  the  essential  life  of  Chris- 
tianity, serving  rather  only  to  quicken  its  faithfulness  and 
spirit  of  obedience. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  silence  of  Jesus  is  no  less  striking 
than  his  utterances.  It  is  not  indeed  to  be  considered  im- 
portant that  he  added  nothing  to  the  existing  idea  of  immor- 
tality. The  doctrine  of  the  future  life  was  already  clearly 
formulated,  —  continued  existence,  with  rewards  and  punish- 
ments corresponding  to  earthly  moral  character.    The  asser- 


RELATION  OF  JESUS  TO   CHRISTIANITY.  419 

tion  by  a  comparatively  late  writer  (2  Tim.  i.  1 0)  that  Christ 
Jesus  "  brought  life  and  iiicorruption  [or  immortality]  to  light 
through  the  gospel,"  refers  not  to  the  general  doctrine  of  the 
continued  existence  of  all  men,  but  to  the  promise  of  a  future 
life  of  blessedness  for  believers  in  Jesus.  In  opposing  the 
Sadducean  denial  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body  Jesus  had 
the  concurrence  of  the  scribes  (Mark  xii.  28) ;  so  Paul  (ac- 
cording to  the  account  in  Acts  xxiii.  6-8)  on  a  critical  occa- 
sion appealed  to  the  Pharisees  as  the  representatives  of  this 
doctrine.  On  this  point  the  Church  coincided  with  the  Syna- 
gogue, and  the  teaching  of  Jesus  was  in  explicit  agreement 
with  both.  His  silence  in  respect  to  himself  is,  however, 
noticeable.  Here  we  have  to  rely  almost  wholly  on  the 
Synoptics  and  the  Epistle  of  James,  the  Fourth  Gospel  being 
so  deeply  colored  by  later  ideas  that  it  must  be  used  with 
great  caution  as  a  portraiture  of  the  Master.  The  state- 
ments of  the  Synoptics  are  not  altogether  harmonious  among 
themselves,  and  must  be  judged  by  comparison  of  one  with 
another  and  by  the  teachings  of  the  succeeding  history. 

In  the  first  place,  it  appears  probable  that  Jesus  did  not 
represent  himself  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin.  There  can  be  little 
doubt  that  he  held  in  a  general  way  the  doctrine  of  the 
necessity  of  vicarious  atonement.  It  was  part  of  the  cur- 
rent opinion  ;  and  he  nowhere  controverts  it,  as  we  may 
suppose  he  would  certainly  have  done  if  he  had  thought 
the  doctrine  wrong.  It  was  the  teaching  of  the  Law  ,  and 
he  accepted  the  Law  as  a  divinely  appointed  rule  of  life. 
He  both  himself  observed  its  ritual  requirements  and  ad- 
vised others  so  to  do  (Mark  i.  44 ;  xiv.  12-16).  In  thus 
accepting  the  sacrifices  for  sin  prescribed  by  the  Law,  he 
virtually  declared  that  no  other  sacrifice  was  needed.  Paul, 
in  proclaiming  Jesus  to  be  men's  propitiation  and  redemp- 
tion (Gal.  iii.  13  ;  1  Cor.  i.  30  ;  Rom.  iv.  25),  seems  distinctly 
to  set  aside  the  Mosaic  scheme  of  sacrifice  (Gal.  iii.  13  ;  iv. 


420  RELATION   OF  JESUS   TO   CHRISTIANITY. 

10, 11 ;  1  Cor.  i.  23  ;  Ttom.  iii.  19-31 ;  v.  12-21),  though  his 
polemic  is  specially  directed  against  circumcision.  The  Epis- 
tle to  the  Hebrews  makes  a  detailed  argument  to  show  that 
the  sacrifices  of  the  Law  were  in  themselves  impotent  and 
were  formally  abrogated  by  the  death  of  Christ  ;  but  no 
such  statements  are  ascribed  to  Jesus  either  in  the  Synop- 
tics or  in  the  Fourth  Gospel.  In  Mark  (vi.  33,  34,  45)  he 
l)redicts  his  death  and  declares  that  he  came  to  give  his 
life  as  a  ransom  for  many.  This  last  expression,  isolated 
as  it  is,  cannot  in  the  face  of  his  other  teaching  be  taken 
to  mean  that  his  death  was  a  substitute  for  the  legal  offer- 
ings. Vicarious  he  might  have  called  it  in  the  sense  in 
which  the  term  is  used  in  Tsa.  liii.,  or  as  the  high-priest 
Caiaphas  is  represented  (John  xi.  50)  as  employing  it  in 
reference  to  Jesus  himself ;  the  rather  that  in  the  connec- 
tion in  Mark  (and  so  in  Matt.  xx.  28),  the  giving  of  his  life 
as  ransom  is  mentioned  along  with  the  ministering  which  it 
is  Jesus'  special  purpose  to  describe  as  a  part  of  the  humil- 
ity that  is  characteristic  of  the  new  kingdom  of  God.  If 
the  ransoming  is  not  of  the  nature  of  ministering  (which 
is  not  technically  and  legally  a  sacrifice),  it  is  probably  an 
expression  of  later  tradition.  The  expression  used  by  Jesus 
at  the  passover-meal,  "  This  is  ray  blood  of  the  covenant, 
which  is  shed  for  many"  (Mark  xiv.  24),  may  be  under- 
stood in  a  similar  sense ;  or  it  may  be  that  the  original  form 
of  the  saying  was  less  decided,  and  that  tradition  has  im- 
pressed on  it  the  tone  of  a  Liter  time.  Certainly  the  con- 
ception of  atonement  for  sin  effected  through  his  blood  does 
not  accord  with  the  tone  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  or 
with  that  of  his  general  teaching  as  given  in  the  Synop- 
tical Gospels.  There  it  is  individual  conduct  that  deter- 
mines men's  destiny.  Nor  can  it  be  said  that  conduct  is 
in  these  passages  represented  as  the  outcome  of  spiritual 
power   implanted    in    man    in    consequence    of   his   atoning 


RELATION  OF  JESUS   TO   CHRISTIAXrrY.  421 

death  ;  the  silence  of  the  Gospels  on  this  point  (omitting 
the  two  passages  above  quoted)  makes  such  a  view  practi- 
cally impossible.  With  more  reason  it  might  be  supposed 
that  he  purposely  withheld  instruction  concerning  his  death 
till  the  last  hour  approached,  thinkhig  his  disciples  unfitted 
earlier  for  such  teaching,  or  that  he  himself  did  not  before 
these  last  days  become  convinced  of  the  sacrificial  nature 
of  his  death.  But  it  would  be  difficult  to  reconcile  the  first 
of  these  suppositions  with  his  distinct  statement  that  who- 
ever did  the  will  of  God  (Mark  iii.  35)  was  nearest  to  him 
in  soul  ;  and  both  suppositions  are  rendered  improbable  by 
the  attitude  of  the  disciples  just  after  his  death. 

Still  more  decidedly  alien  to  his  teaching  is  the  dogma 
that  justification  before  the  divine  tribunal  was  effected  by 
his  righteousness  imputed  to  the  believer.  In  the  Synop- 
tics faith  in  Jesus  is  simply  confidence  in  his  ability  to 
cure  bodily  ailment,  or  belief  that  he  is  the  Messiah ;  in 
some  cases  the  faith  is  vicarious  (Mark  ii.  5  ;  v.  36).  On 
the  other  hand,  Jesus  makes  man's  own  righteousness  the 
human  condition  of  salvation,  the  divine  ground  being  God's 
willingness  to  forgive  (Matt.  vi.  14).  His  scheme  of  life  as 
given  in  his  reported  teaching  contemplates  no  intermediary 
between  God  and  the  individual  soul.  He  seems,  as  has 
already  been  remarked,  to  have  accepted  the  national  sys- 
tem of  sacrifice ;  but  from  his  utterances  as  they  have  been 
handed  down  we  should  infer  that  he  attached  little  impor- 
tance to  it.  Apparently  he  looked  on  it  as  a  time  honored 
framework  of  popular  religious  life,  but  the  essential  thing 
in  his  eyes  was  ethical  union  with  God.  He  would  not 
directly  combat  the  existing  system  ;  he  would  quietly  sub- 
stitute for  it  a  spiritual  principle,  —  not  vicarious  suffering 
or  vicarious  goodness,  but  personal  obedience.  Other  great 
Jewish  moral  teachers  of  the  time  did  not  fail,  along  with 
their  insistence  on  ethical  purity,  to  hold  up  the  Law  as  the 


422  RELATION  OF   JESUS   TO   CHRISTIANITY. 

essence  of  the  religious  life.  Jesus  substantially  put  aside 
all  systems  and  apparatus  and  made  his  api)eal  simply  to 
the  individual  conscience. 

Did  Jesus  regard  himself  as  a  divine  person  or  as  in  any 
vray  lifted  above  the  sphere  of  humanity  ?  It  may  fairly 
be  said  that  the  general  impression  left  on  us  by  the  por- 
traiture of  him  in  the  Synoptics  is  that  he  lived  and  acted 
as  other  men ;  that  nothing  was  further  from  his  mind 
than  the  desire  to  be  looked  on  as  a  superhuman  being.  In 
his  appeals  to  the  people,  in  his  more  familiar  intercourse 
with  his  disciples,  in  his  arguments  wuth  his  opponents,  in 
his  hours  of  prayer  and  of  straggle  he  thought  and  spoke  as 
a  man.  He  claimed  to  be  only  a  teacher  of  righteousness ; 
and  certainly  this  was  the  impression  received  by  some  of 
his  followers,  —  by  the  two  who  went  to  Emmaus  (Luke 
xxiv.  19-21),  and  (if  we  may  rely  on  the  account  in  Acts)  by 
Peter  himself  (Acts  ii.  22-24,  32-3G).  If  he  claimed  mirac- 
ulous powers,  the  same  claim  was  made  by  many  others, 
prophets  and  apostles.  As  to  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  he  him- 
self pointed  out  that  this  was  no  more  a  divine  power  than 
the  gift  of  healing  (Mark  v.  21-23),  and  it  is  represented  as 
belonging  also  to  the  disciples  (Matt,  xviii.  18  ;  cf.  Luke  x. 
IG).  The  titles  "Son  of  Man"  and  "Son  of  David"  do  not 
suggest  a  superhuman  nature,  nor  according  to  the  Fourth 
Gospel  (John  x.  33-36)  does  a  claim  to  such  a  nature  reside 
in  the  title  "  Son  of  God."  There  Jesus  is  represented  as 
making  an  argument  from  the  Old  Testament  (Ps.  Ixxxii.  6) 
to  show  that  men  might  be  so  called,  and  (expressly  dis- 
claiming divinity)  describes  himself  as  one  "  whom  the  Father 
consecrated  and  sent  into  the  world."  Nothing  more  than 
this  seems  to  be  involved  in  the  declaration  (Matt.  xi.  25-30) 
that  "  no  one  knows  the  Son  save  the  Father,  nor  does  any 
one  know  the  Father  save  the  Son  and  lie  to  whom  the  Son 
wills  to  reveal  him "  (where  the  believer  is  in  this  respect 


RELATION   OF  JESUS   TO   CHRISTIANITY.  423 

equal  with  the  Son).  Other  passages,  in  which  the  "  Son  of 
Man"  is  represented  as  lord  of  the  angels  (Matt.  xiii.  41; 
xvi.  27,  28),  seem  to  imply  a  power  not  indeed  divine  yet 
more  than  human.  Tliis  view  of  himself,  out  of  harmony 
with  the  utterances  above  mentioned,  might  be  supposed  to 
express  a  later  phase  of  his  inward  experience,  to  be  a  prod- 
uct of  the  time  when  he  had  come  to  look  on  himself  as 
the  Messiah  and  destined  to  reappear  in  judgment ;  but  as 
his  disciples  do  not  seem  to  have  expected  such  a  reappear- 
ance (Luke  xxiv. ;  Mark  xvi.  2-5),  it  is  probable  that  this 
announcement  was  not  made  by  him  but  expresses  the  idea 
of  a  later  time.  In  the  same  way  we  may  understand  the 
declarations  that  he  would  be  with  his  followers  everywhere 
and  always  (Matt,  xviii.  20  ;  xxviii.  19,  20),  unless,  indeed,  a 
merely  spiritual  presence  is  here  intended.  With  such  evi- 
dence as  lies  before  us,  it  seems  reasonable  to  conclude  that 
Jesus  laid  no  claim,  in  thought  or  in  word,  to  other  than 
human  nature  and  power.  He  was  conscious  of  profound 
sympathy  with  the  divine  mind ;  tlie  formality  and  folly  of 
the  prevailing  religion  pressed  on  his  soul  as  a  heavy  bur- 
den that  he  felt  called  on  to  bear  ;  he  believed  himself  to 
be  a  prophet  sent  by  God  with  a  message  of  salvation  to 
men,  whom  he  embraced  in  his  deep  and  yearning  love  ;  yea, 
in  the  intensity  of  his  conscious  union  with  the  divine  Father 
he  knew  himself  to  be  the  Son  of  God.  But  beyond  this  he 
did  not  go.  It  would  indeed  be  a  noteworthy  thing  that  a 
Jew  of  that  period,  with  the  profound  Jewish  sentiment  of 
the  unspeakable  distance  between  God  and  man,  should  have 
overstepped  the  boundary,  and  being  in  human  form,  have 
equalled  himself  with  the  divine.  For  so  remarkable  a  de- 
parture from  the  national  thought  we  naturally  demand  clear 
evidence,  and  such  evidence  we  do  not  find  in  the  existing 
records  of  the  life  of  Jesus. 

2.  Such  was  his  teaching.     What  were  the  fortunes    of 


424  EELATION   OF  JESUS   TO   CHRISTLVNITY 

the  doctrine  that  he  cast  forth  as  seed  into  the  world? 
That  he  made  a  profound  impression  on  his  disciples  is 
evident  frum  the  fact  that  after  his  death  his  name  was 
the  bond  of  union  and  basis  of  organization  for  them.  That 
his  teaching  contained  a  true  response  to  the  demands  of 
the  age  is  clear  from  tiie  religious  revolution  which  was 
effected  by  his  followers.  But  was  all  his  teaching  accepted 
by  his  disciples,  or  only  a  part  of  it  ?  and  was  his  doctrine 
alone  the  potent  element  in  the  Christianity  that  subdued 
the  Eoman  empire,  or  did  it  call  to  its  aid  ideas  to  which 
he  was  a  stranger?  And  if  this  last  was  the  case,  what 
was  his  relation  to  the  new  ideas  thus  introduced? 

It  is  commonly  said  that  the  disciples  just  after  the 
death  of  Jesus  were  merely  Jews  who  believed  him  to 
be  the  Messiah.  This  is  probably  true  so  far  as  their 
religious  dogma  was  concerned.  We  may  infer  from  the 
opening  chapters  of  Acts  that  they  still  practised  all  the 
observances  of  the  Law ;  and  Gamaliel's  speech,  which  may 
be  regarded  as  embodying  a  reliable  tradition,  seems  not 
to  contemplate  the  new  movement  as  necessarily  inimical 
to  the  national  faith.  Jesus  in  fact  did  not  announce  any 
new  dogma,  and  there  was  no  reason  why  his  followers 
should  not  remain  Jews  in  religious  belief.  But  he  did 
proclaim  and  illustrate  a  new  spirit  in  ethics  and  religion, 
and  it  was  this  that  was  destined  to  overthrow  Mosaism 
in  the  Church.  How  far  in  the  first  years  this  spirit  had 
gained  possession  of  the  disciples,  it  is  hard  to  say ;  for 
information  on  this  point  we  are  wholly  dependent  on  the 
account  in  Acts,  which  is  certainly  not  free  from  the  ex- 
pansions of  tradition.  Yet  so  far  as  we  can  judge  from 
the  tone  of  the  ojicning  chapters  of  Acts,  there  was  an 
inspiring  exaltation  of  soul  in  tlie  little  company  of  men 
and  women  wlio  were  awaiting  the  appearance  of  Jesus. 
They  had  come  during  his  lifetime  to  look  on  him  as  the 


RELATION  OF  JESUS   TO   CHRISTIANITY.  425 

Messiah.  This  was  not  strange ;  there  were  not  a  few  Mes- 
siahs, who  had  each  his  followers.  A  more  noteworthy 
thing  was  that  they  had  retained  their  faith  in  him  even 
after  his  death.^  Whether  this  was  due  to  something  which 
they  understood  to  be  a  promise  of  return  on  his  part  or 
to  the  powerful  impression  made  on  them  by  his  person- 
ality, may  be  doubtful.  It  is  certain  that  they  believed 
him  to  mark  a  turning-point  in  the  history  of  Israel,  the 
redemption,  perhaps  in  some  not  clearly  defined  way,  of 
the  people  from  all  evil.  Thus  his  person  naturally  became 
the  central  point  of  their  religious  faith  and  hope ,  he 
would  sum  up  in  himself  all  the  promises.  This  seems  to 
have  been  the  attitude  of  the  infant  Church.  Its  creed 
in  other  respects  had  undergone  no  change.  Salvation  was 
still  the  reward  of  obedience  to  tlie  Law,  manifested  (as 
John  and  Jesus  had  taught)  by  repentance  and  the  out- 
ward separation  by  baptism  from  that  crooked  generation; 
but  there  was  the  subtle  influence  of  devotion  to  a  pure 
and  lofty  personality;  the  memory  of  his  consecration  to 
his  spiritual  ideal  would  leaven  more  and  more  the  Church's 
life  and  thought. 

Thus  it  is  not  surprising  that  we  do  not  find  in  the 
earliest  Christian  records  any  clear  signs  of  dogmatic  re- 
construction. The  burden  of  the  discourses .  and  prayers 
reported  in  the  twelve  first  chapters  of  Acts  (up  to  the 
time  when  Taul  began  his  active  work)  is  simply  that 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  who  had  been  put  to  death,  was  the 
promised  Christ,  the  prophet  foretold  by  Moses  and  the 
prophets,  the  servant  of  God  sent  to  turn  men  from  their 
iniquities.  And  if  he  was  all  this,  it  was  of  course  neces- 
sary that  men  should  believe  on  him,  that  is,  should  accept 

1  This  fact  also,  as  is  well  known,  lias  its  counterparts  in  history  and 
especially  in  otlier  religious  movements,  as,  for  example,  Bud.lhism,  the 
Mahdi-form  of  Mohammedanism,  and  the  Persian  Babism. 


426  RELATION   OF   JESUS   TO   CHRISTIANITY. 

him  as  the  final  teacher  and  deliverer.  The  belief  early 
established  itself  that  he  had  risen  from  the  dead,  that  he 
had  been  received  into  heaven,  there  to  dwell  till  the  time 
of  his  coming,  —  a  belief  which  may  be  regarded  as  a  natural 
pendant  to  the  conviction  that  he,  though  he  had  died,  was 
the  Messiah.  Such  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Epistle  of  James, 
in  which,  as  in  the  early  chapters  of  xVcts,  there  is  no  word 
respecting  a  sacrificial  character  attachhig  to  the  death  of 
Jesus  nor  any  ascription  of  divinity  to  him,  —  nothing  but  the 
exhortation  to  lead  a  holy  life  in  expectation  of  his  coming. 

It  was  thus  that  the  early  disciples  interpreted  the  teach- 
ings of  Jesus  in  the  light  of  their  own  hopes.  From  their 
opinions  we  may  gather  what  had  been  the  nature  of  his 
instruction.  We  may  infer  that  he  had  spoken  of  himself 
only  as  the  servant  of  God,  sent  to  announce  the  new  order 
of  things,  the  essence  of  which  was  unfeigned  love  to  God 
and  man.  There  was  here  an  extraordinary  concurrence 
of  favorable  conditions:  a  people  with  a  firmly  organized 
monotheistic  faith,  and  in  contact  with  the  best  ethical 
thought  of  the  time;  a  circle  within  the  ])eople  conscious 
of  the  lacks  of  the  existing  system  and  anxious  to  estab- 
lish a  higher  spirituality ;  a  general  belief  that  God,  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  ancient  promises,  was  about  to  introduce 
a  new  order  of  things;  a  man  who  by  his  extraordinary 
endowments  was  able  to  inspire  a  select  circle  of  followers 
with  a  controlling  enthusiasm  both  for  his  person  as  the 
final  deliverer  sent  by  God,  and,  in  a  germinal  way,  for 
those  lofty  principles  of  ethical-religious  life  which  he  set 
forth  in  his  teaching  and  illustrated  in  his  conduct,  —  these 
were  the  conditions  of  the  birth  of  Christianity,  briefly  and 
roughly  stated.  Those  subtle  influences  which  we  call  the 
spirit  of  the  age  and  the  spirit  of  the  teacher  require  for 
their  detailed  comprehension  fuller  literary  data  than  we 
possess  ;  but  from  the  existing  records  and  from  the  sue- 


RELATION  OF  JESUS   TO   CHRISTIANITY.  427 

ceeding  religious  development  we  may  infer  their  general 
character,  and  it  appears  that  the  early  Church  was  the 
direct  product  of  the  teaching  and  personality  of  Jesus. 

3.  This  was  the  dogmatic  position  of  the  Church  when 
Saul  of  Tarsus  entered  it.  It  is  unnecessary  here  to  attempt 
to  explain  his  conversion.  From  the  little  bit  of  autobi- 
ography in  the  first  chapter  of  Galatians  it  may  be  con- 
cluded that  the  person  of  Jesus  had  made  a  profound 
impression  on  him.  We  may  suspect  that  to  Paul  he  was 
from  the  first  more  than  the  risen  Messiah  who  was  to 
restore  Israel,  that  the  future  apostle  saw  in  him  even 
then  the  hope  of  that  spiritual  regeneration  for  which  he 
seems  to  have  been  long  struggUng.  Unfortunately  Paul 
has  left  us  no  full  account  of  his  early  experiences,  only 
reminiscences  which  may  be  colored  by  his  later  thought. 
We  know  only  the  dogmatic  system  which  he  worked  out 
after  many  years  spent  in  Arabia  and  Syria.  There  he 
came  into  contact  with  Gentiles,  whose  peculiar  position 
may  well  have  caused  him  to  reflect  on  the  conditions 
of  church-membership,  and  have  helped  to  lead  him  to  the 
conclusion  that  salvation  was  complete  in  Christ  without 
the  works  of  the  Law.  This  was  equivalent  in  his  mind 
to  affirming  that  Christ  had  worked  out  a  perfect  right- 
eousness, since  without  perfect  righteousness  there  could 
be  no  salvation,  and  man's  own  righteousness  was  neces- 
sarily imperfect.  But  this  imputed  righteousness  was  in- 
separably connected  in  his  conception  with  an  inward  spirit 
of  obedience,  an  impulse  of  love,  the  gift  of  God  through 
Christ.  Such  an  idea  may  have  been  present  to  him  from 
the  moment  when  the  conviction  had  seized  on  him  that  the 
true  Christ  was  this  suffering  crucified  man  of  spotless  life. 
Paul  seems  (such  is  the  impression  made  on  us  by  the 
history)  to  have  had  a  sudden  revelation  (born  of  much 
preceding    struggle  of  soul)  that  God's  promised  salvation 


428  RELATION   OF   JESUS   TO   CIIKISTIAXITY. 

was  a  spiritual  one,  aud  that  it  was  embodied  in  Jesus  of 
Nazareth.  Salvation  carried  with  it  remission  of  sins,  and 
remission  of  sins  implied  an  offering ;  thus  the  death  of 
Jesus  naturally  assumed  a  sacrificial  character.  Paul's 
whole  scheme  was  not  only  made  possible  but  was  forced 
on  him  by  his  conception  of  the  person  of  Jesus. 

We  may  suppose  that  it  w^as  by  some  such  process  of 
feeling  that  the  Church  at  large  came  to  interpret  as  the 
foundation  of  salvation  that  mysterious  death  which  it  had 
at  first  regarded  as  an  interruption  of  the  divine  deliver- 
ance. The  disappearance  of  the  JMessiah  from  the  earth 
was  hard  to  understand.  Surely,  said  the  disciples,  he  will 
come  again  to  complete  what  he  has  begun.  Then  with 
the  growth  of  spirituality  in  a  section  of  the  Church  (for 
one  portion  of  it  seems  never  to  have  advanced  beyond  the 
Old  Testament  point  of  view  as  given  in  the  Epistle  of 
James)  came  the  belief  that  the  end  of  the  divine  inter- 
vention was  deliverance  from  sin,  and  Jesus  was  regarded 
as  the  exalted  Son  of  God  who  had  given  his  life  fur  men. 
This  conception  of  the  Master  is  found  in  tlie  majority  of 
the  books  of  the  New  Testament.  In  his  death  that  age, 
looking  on  sacrifice  as  an  absolute  necessity,  found  a  com- 
plete solution  of  the  problem  of  satisfaction  for  sin.  The 
Jewish  ethical-spiritual  thouglit  thus  created  out  of  the 
person  of  Jesus  a  framework  (indispensable  for  that  time) 
for  his  higher  religious  teaching. 

The  exaltation  of  Jesus,  implied  in  the  title  "the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ"  and  in  the  frequent  coui)ling  of  his  name 
with  that  of  God  the  Father,  was  a  natural  consequence 
of  the  increasing  value  which  was  attaclied  to  his  person 
and  work.  Withdrawn  from  earth,  he  was  thought  of  as 
in  heaven,  and  charged  with  the  salvation  of  men,  Ite  was 
believed  to  be  invested  with  the  universal  authority  neces- 
sary for  the  fulfilment  of  his  mission.     When    lliis    feeling 


RELATION   OF   JESUS  TO   CHRISTIANITY.  429 

first  found  expression  it  is  not  easy  to  say.  That  it  was 
not  in  existence  immediately  after  the  death  of  Jesus  may 
he  inferred  from  the  narratives  of  the  Syuoj)tics  ;  but  the 
general  imj)ression  made  on  us  by  Paul's  history  of  his 
conversion  (Gal.  i.)  is  that  it  formed  a  part  of  the  apostle's 
experience  at  an  early  stage  of  his  Christian  career.  The 
Lord  Jesus  is  thought  of  as  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of 
God  and  controlling  the  destinies  of  men.  This  concep- 
tion, interpreted  as  a  part  of  the  new-born  Christian  con- 
sciousness, signifies  the  exaltation  of  righteousness  to  the 
place  of  honor  in  the  world.  In  the  person  of  the  lle- 
deemer  it  is  made  glorious  and  everlasting.  Yet  on  the 
dogmatic  side  this  exaltation  of  Jesus  is  always  in  the 
Pauline  period  distinguished  from  deification.  He  is 
the  Lord,  the  pre-existent  Son  of  God,  but  he  acts  accord- 
ing to  the  will  of  God,  who  sent  him  forth  (Gal.  i.  4;  iv.  4); 
he  is  God's  as  believers  are  Christ's  ;  all  spiritual  life  is 
in  him  because  he  has  been  made  by  God  the  source  of 
life  (1  Cor.  i.  3");  iii.  23);  all  things  shall  be  subjected 
to  him  that  he  himself  may  then  be  subjected  to  God  (1 
Cor.  XV.  28);  he  is  the  fulfilment  of  the  promises  unto  the 
glory  of  God,  which  shines  in  his  face  (2  Cor.  i.  20  ;  iv.  6) ; 
God  reconciles  men  to  himself  in  Christ,  and  raises  them 
from  the  dead  as  he  raised  Jesus  (2  Cor.  v.  19  ;  iv.  14) ; 
CJirist  was  born  of  the  seed  of  David  according  to  the 
flesh  and  determined  to  be  the  Son  of  God  according  to 
the  spirit  by  the  resurrection  from  the  dead  (Eom.  i.  3,  4) ; 
and  as  final  judge  of  men  (2  Cor.  v.  10)  he  is  the  agent  of 
God  (Piom.  ii.  16).^     An  exalted  position  not  thought  of  by 

1  On  Rom,  ix.  5,  see  the  discussion  by  Abbot  and  Dwight  in  Vol.  I.  of 
"  The  Journal  of  the  Society  of  Biblical  Literature  and  Exegesis,"  (Boston, 
1881).  The  passnge  must  be  interpreted  in  accordance  with  Paul's  un- 
varying usage  elsewhere,  and  it  may  fairly  be  said  to  be  highly  improbable 
that  the  author  of  Galatians,  Corinthians,  and  Romans  should  apply  the 
epithet  "God"  to  Christ. 


430  RELATION   OF   .JESUS   TO   CHRISTIANITY. 

himself  was  assigned  him ;  but  conceived,  as  it  was,  reve- 
rently and  soberly,  it  did  not  impugn  the  aloneness  of 
God,  and  practically  served  to  give  impressiveness  to  the 
fundamental  religious  ideas  of  the  Master.  It  was,  we 
may  conclude,  the  natural  way  in  which  the  age  expressed 
its  estimate  of  his  greatness.^ 

To  this  portraiture  of  the  function  of  Jesus  Paul  added 
the  conception  of  perfect  legal  righteousness  worked  out 
by  him  and  reckoned  as  a  legally  justifying  fact  to  every 
believer.  This  idea  was  not  embraced  by  the  whole  Church 
of  the  first  century  (it  does  not  appear  in  the  Apocalypse, 
the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  the  Fourth  Gospel,  or  the 
Pastoral  Epistles,  or  indeed  distinctly  anywhere  except 
in  tlie  four  great  Pauline  Epistles),  nor  has  it  ever  suc- 
ceeded in  establishing  itself  firmly  in  the  Christian  con- 
sciousness. Yet,  though  its  scholastic  and  apparently 
mechanical  form  has  often  been  repellent,  it  is  based,  as 
has  been  pointed  out  above,  on  a  profound  ethical-spiritual 
feeling,  on  the  conviction  that  man's  spiritual  powers  can 
have  full  play  only  when  he  is  relieved  from  the  obliga- 
tion of  an  impossible  performance  and  quickened  into 
activity  by  love.  Jesus  himself  did  not  hold  that  the 
efficacy  of  the  divine  love  in  awakening  in  man's  soul  love 
of  holiness  depended  on  the  forensic  intermediation  of  an 
imputed  righteousness ;  but  to  Paul,  with  his  peculiar  train- 
ing and  experience,  such  an  intermediary  appeared  to  be 
necessary.  In  general  the  position  of  mediator  assigned 
by  the  Church  of  the  first  century  to  Jesus  seems  to  have 
been  alien  to  his  thought.     This  departure  from  his  teach- 

1  So  far  as  Paul  and  the  early  Church  are  concerned,  such  an  estimate 
might  be  held  to  have  grown  up  on  purely  Jewisli  soil,  thougli  Greek  influ- 
ence is  neither  impossible  nor  improbable.  Exaltation  of  men  into  the 
divine  sphere  was  rather  an  IIclleTiic  than  a  Semitic  mode  of  thought,  and 
may  have  been  insensibly  apjiropriatod  by  a  portion  of  the  Jewish  world. 
Whether  tliis  was  actually  the  fact,  it  is  hardly  ])ossible  to  say. 


RELATION  OF  JESUS   TO   CHRISTIANITY.  431 

ing  is  an  evidence  of  his  power.  The  Jew  of  that  period 
(and  the  New  Testament  writers  were  probably  all  Jews) 
could  hardly  conceive  of  an  immediate  friendly  relation 
between  God  and  man;  all  the  past  religious  development, 
beginning  from  primitive  times,  involved  the  interposition 
of  some  reconciling  or  propitiating  agency.  For  the  Jew 
it  had  been  the  national  system  of  sacrifices.  That  Jesus 
took  the  place  of  this  great  mediatorial  scheme,  which  the 
wisdom  and  mercy  of  God,  it  was  believed,  had  devised 
for  the  fathers,  shows  the  enormous  significance  which  was 
attached  to  his  person,  the  controlling  power  of  his  person- 
ality ;  he,  by  the  impression  he  made,  coerced  and  revolu- 
tionized the  religious  apparatus  of  a  nation.  It  is  possible, 
it  is  even  probable,  that  the  disciples  never  asked  them- 
selves whether  the  Master  had  practically  ignored  medi- 
ating agency  in  his  teaching.  His  silence  on  this  point 
w^ould  hardly  attract  their  attention;  they  would  assume 
that  he  taught  what  the  Scriptures  enjoined.  The  graft- 
ing of  a  mediatorial  doctrine  on  his  conception  of  salva- 
tion was  doubtless  an  unconscious  procedure  on  their  part ; 
the  doctrine  was  a  part  of  that  framework  without  which 
the  age  seemed  unable  to  appropriate  his  higher  thought.^ 

4.  While  the  Jewish  and  the  Pauline  conceptions  of 
Christianity  were  thus  moving  side  by  side,  a  new  ten- 
dency of  thought  was  coming  into  view.  The  union  of 
Greek  philosophical  speculation  with  Jewish  theology  had 
produced  the  Alexandrian  doctrine  of  the  logos,  the  con- 
ception of  an  exalted  being  nearly  allied  in  nature  to  God, 

1  Here  again,  in  the  development  of  the  Christian  mediatorial  scheme, 
the  possibility  of  non-.Jewish  influence  must  be  admitted.  Such  influence  is 
certain  so  far  as  regards  the  logos-doctrine,  which  involved  the  idea  of 
mediation.  Whether  the  Persian  conception  of  intermediation  (Mithra)  was 
then  in  position  to  be  effective  is  doubtful.  The  groundwork  of  the  Chris- 
tian idea  was  Jewish ;  the  possibility  of  its  extension,  as  it  appears  in  the 
New  Testament,  was  probably  made  easier  by  the  diffusion  of  Greek  (and 
perhaps  of  Persian)  modes  of  thought. 


432  RELATION   OF   JESUS   TO   CHRISTIANITY. 

the   image    of   the   divine   glory,  the   agent   in    the   divine 
creation,  standing  midway  between   God  and  tlie  world  as 
mediator   between   the   two.      This   conception,    originating 
in  Alexandria  (to  this  conclusion  the  documentary  evidence 
points),  seems  to  have  made  its  w^ay  to  Asia  Minor,  and 
perhaps  to  other  parts  of  the  Jewish  world.     At  any  rate 
it   commended  itself   to  not   a   few  Christians,  who   recog- 
nized its  grandeur  and  relevancy  and    saw  in  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  mediating  image  and  son  of  God  a  portraiture 
of   the    person   and   work  of  the  Christ  of  God,  Jesus   of 
Nazareth.       This    construction    of    the    divine    method  of 
government   is    expressed  in    four  books  of   the    New  Tes- 
tament,   the     Epistles     to    the    Hebrews,    the    Ephesians, 
the    Colossians,   and   the   Fourth   Gospel,  which    may  thus 
be   considered   to    form  in    this   respect   a   separate   group. 
They  agree  in  ascribing  to  Jesus  the  most  exalted  position 
in  the  universe  under  God.    They  differ  in  the  terms  which 
they  apply  to  him,  and  in  the  way  in  which  they  repre- 
sent his  functions  in  the  divine  plan  of  salvation,  as  well 
as  in  their  view  of  the  human  conditions  of  salvation  ;  they 
differ  also   so  far  as  regards    the  circumstances  of  the  cir- 
cles to  which  they  are  addressed.     The  design  of  Hebrews 
(addressed  to  Jewish  Christians  by  one  who  felt  called  on 
to   reconcile    the   Jewish  sacrificial  idea  with  his  Pauline- 
Alexandrian    conception    of   Jesus)   is    to   portray  Jesus  as 
the  priest  and  sacrifice  of  a  new  covenant  made  far  more 
glorious   than    the    old   by    his   personality.     He,   says  the 
Epistle  (i.  1-4),  appointed  heir  of  all  things   and  agent  in 
the  work  of  creation,  the  impress  of  tlie  divine  substance, 
made  purification  of  sins  and  sat  down  on  the  right  hand 
of  the  Majesty  on  high,  having  become  by  so  much  l)etter 
than    the    angels    as    he   had    inherited    a    more    excellent 
name   than    they.     The   author's    leading   idea   is    the  dig- 
nity of  the  piiestly  Saviour,  whom  he  identifies  with  the 


RELATION   OF  JESUS  TO   CHRISTIANITY.  433 

Alexandrian  creative  logos.  The  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians 
sets  forth  against  Jewish  exclusiveness  the  sufhciency  of 
the  salvation  of  Christ,  presenting  him  as  the  consumma- 
tion of  all  things  (i.  10),  lord  over  the  universe  and  head 
of  the  Church  by  divine  appointment  (i.  20-23),  the  reve- 
lation of  the  divine  wisdom  to  the  heavenly  principalities 
and  powers  (iii.  10).  The  author  of  Colossians  is  led  to 
speak  more  fully  of  the  person  of  Jesus,  his  polemic  being 
directed  against  a  current  form  of  Gnosticism  (apparently 
Jewish)  which  laid  stress  on  angelic  intermediaries  be- 
tween God  and  man  and  on  ascetic  observances  (ii.  16-19). 
In  opposition  to  this  belief  he  represents  Christ  as  the 
image  of  God,  the  first-born  of  the  creation,  the  agent  in 
the  creation  of  the  universe,  the  head  of  the  Church,  the 
possessor  of  the  fulness  [the  Gnostic  pleroma,  the  content 
of  all  being],  the  reconciler  of  all  things  to  God  (i.  15-20), 
—  forms  of  expression  substantially  identical  with  those 
of  Philo.  The  relation  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  (in  the  same 
category  with  which  is  the  First  Epistle  of  John)  to  the 
Jewish-Alexandrian  philosophy  has  already  been  pointed 
out  :  here  Jesus  is  the  logos,  head  of  the  kingdom  of 
light  and  life,  himself  revealer  and  source  of  salvation. 

The  variety  and  vividness  of  these  portraitures  of  Jesus, 
the  activity  and  enthusiasm  of  thought  they  show,  is  an 
indication  of  his  wonderful  power.  His  person  assimilated 
all  the  elements  of  thought  of  the  time.  Into  whatever 
circle  his  name  made  its  entrance,  it  there  became  the 
controlling  factor.  He  represented  purity  and  salvation, 
and  around  him  as  a  centre  all  systems  of  life  and  of  the 
universe  arranged  themselves.  The  Church  in  expanding 
and  embellishing  his  theology  still  made  him  the  essence 
of  her  theology.  With  all  the  variations  in  other  points 
she  held  fast  to  the  conception  of  Jesus  as  the  exalted 
Saviour.    Salvation  was  inseparably  connected  with  his  per- 


434  RELATION  OF  JESUS  TO   CHRISTIANITY. 

son,- — this  was  the  iuspmng  idea  of  Christianity.     As  to 
how  the   salvation  was  effected  —  by  what   acts    or   expe- 
riences of  God,  of  Christ,  and  of  men  —  there  were  differ- 
ences of  view.    The  Pauline  theory  of  imputed  righteousness 
does  not  appear  outside  of   Paul's  writings.     Hebrews  and 
First   Timothy   represent    faith   as    exercised    toward    God 
primarily  ("  God  our  Saviour,"  1  Tim.  ii.  3).     These,  together 
with    Ephesians,  Colossians,   Second    Timothy,  Titus,  First 
Peter,   and   the   Apocalypse,   refer  to   the   death  of   Christ 
as   expiatory.     The   Fourth   Gospel   and   the   First   of  the 
Epistles  ascribed  to  John  further  lay  stress  on  the  living 
union  of   the  soul  with  Jesus,  who  is  regarded  as  mysti- 
cally imparting    spiritual    life  or  giving  entrance  into   the 
kingdom  of  light.     But    amid  all   these  variations  the  per- 
son of   Jesus  remains  the  centre  of  the  religious  life.     It 
was  indeed  this    personal   character  of   the    Christian  faith 
and    hope   which    both    produced    or   permitted    individual 
differences,   and   maintained   the   substantial   unity    of    the 
Church  in  spite  of  them.     A  great  inspiring  idea,  the  idea 
of  salvation,  was  cast  forth  into  the  world,  and  men  held 
it  in  such  forms  as  were  suggested  by  their  views  of  God 
and  the  world.     Thus  it  was  possible  that  a  real  catholic 
church  v/ith  a  catholic  faith  could  exist  amid  such  diver- 
sities of   national,   social,  and  intellectual  relations  as  the 
Church  of  the  early  centuries  showxd.     It  is  further  true 
that  the  ethical  teaching  and  example  of  the  Master  deter- 
mined  the   ethical  creed   of   the   Church.     For  him  salva- 
tion   was    oneness   of   soul   with    God,   and    his    followers, 
though    they  developed   his   religious    teaching   in    a   theo- 
logical way  and  departed  from  the  simplicity  of  his  doc- 
trine, did  not  forget  the  spirit  of  his  life.     The  sweetness 
of  patient,  self-forgetting  love  which  entered,  like  a  breath 
from  heaven,  into  the  hardness  of  the  Ptoman  world,  was 
the   copy  of   the   daily  life  of   Jesus,   strengthened    by   the 


RELATION   OF   JESUS  TO   CHRISTIANITY.  435 

belief  that  Iiis  atoning  death  made  manifest  the  value  of 
the  individual  soul  and  swept  away  the  artificial  barriers 
that  had  hitherto  separated  men.  In  a  word,  the  Church 
was  the  creation  of  Jesus  partly  by  his  direct  teaching, 
partly  by  the  stimulating  and  organizing  power  of  his 
personality. 

The  formative  period  of  the  Church  extended  over  the 
first  century  following  the  death  of  Jesus.  Tlien  came  a 
formulating  period  of  about  three  centuries  during  which 
a  number  of  ideas  which  in  the  New  Testament  books  are 
more  or  less  fluid  were  put  into  the  shape  of  propositions 
and  received  as  dogmas.  Each  of  the  great  races  that 
embraced  Christianity  impressed  its  thought  and  its  per- 
sonality on  the  body  of  doctrine.  The  faith  passed  from 
the  Greek  and  Latin  to  the  Celtic  and  Germanic  commu- 
nities of  Europe.  Protestantism  threw  away  part  of  the 
great  mass  of  beliefs  which  the  medieval  Catholic  Church 
had  accumulated,  and  entered  on  its  own  career  of  trans- 
formation. Both  branches  of  Christianity,  Catholic  and 
Protestant,  have  followed  the  currents  of  modern  thought; 
there  is  not  a  phase  of  science,  philosophy,  or  literature 
but  has  left  its  impress  on  the  body  of  beliefs  that  con- 
trol Christendom.  But  in  all  this  freedom  of  movement 
the  person  of  Jesus  has  maintained  its  place  as  the  centre 
of  religious  life.  Whatever  the  particular  construction  of 
the  theology,  whether  he  be  regarded  as  substantially  di- 
vine or  only  as  a  profoundly  inspired  man,  whether  his  death 
or  his  life  be  most  emphasized,  whether  Church  or  Bible 
be  accepted  as  infallible  guide,  he  is  ever  the  leader  and 
model  of  religious  experience.  It  becomes  more  and  more 
evident  that  the  fundamental  truths  which  he  announced 
are  as  new  as  they  were  in  his  time,  and  that  he  alone  is 
in  the  highest  sense  the  founder  of  Christianity. 


INDEX  OF   CITATIONS. 


OLD   TESTAMENT. 


i.  2      . 
i.  20,  21 


ii.  15  (Sept.) 


iii.  21 
iii.  22  . 
iv.  16-24 
iv.  18  . 
iv.  26  . 


157,  167,  194, 

195,  199,  204,  209 

197 

198 


vi.-ix. 


vi.  1,  2 
vi.  2    . 
viii.  21 
ix.  4   . 
xi.  7    . 
xii.  5  . 
xii.  13 
XV.  4  . 
XV.  6  . 
XV.  10 
xvi.  7,  13 
xvi.  7-13 
xviii.  . 
xviii.  19 
xviii.  25 

XX.        . 

xxvi.  . 
xxvi.  7 
xxvii. 
xxvii.  33 
xxix.  14 

XXX.    . 

xxxi.  12,  13 
xxxii.  24,  30 
XXXV.  11  . 

xii.  8  .  .  . 
xliii.  30  .  . 


Page 
160,  195 

.  196 

161  «. 

161  n. 

.  173 
153,  161 

.  161 
173,  175 

409  n. 


160  ft. 
160  ft 


,  196 
160  ft. 
.  196 
.  196 

167,  201 
.  159 
.  147 
.  176 
.  174 
.  147 
.  175 

175,  194 
177  ft. 
.  275 
,  107 


.  148 
202,  272 
.  147 
.  81 
.  272 
.  272 
.  194 
.  194 
103  n: 
.  174 
.  194 
.  109 
.  91 
177  n. 
.  176 
177  w. 


Page 

Page 

Ex.  iii.  6     . 

.     394  n. 

2  Sam.  vii.  14 

.     .     317 

vi.  3    .     .     . 

.     306  n. 

Xll.       .      .      . 

.     309  ft. 

xiv.  20     .    . 

.     IVSn. 

xii.  1-14       . 

.     184  n. 

XV.  16      . 

.     .     107 

xxiv.  .     .     . 

.     185  n. 

xxi.-xxiii. 

235,  237 

xxiv.  1    .     . 

.     .     157 

xxiii.  21  . 

.  91,  148 

1  KiuKs  iv.  29-g 

4     .     135 

xxxiii.  14 

.     .      90 

V.  32  .     .     . 

.     .     135 

xxxiii.  15 

.     .    148 

VIU.       .      .          t 

09  «..  312 

Lev.  iv.  .     . 

.     .    226 

xvii.  21    .     . 
xxii.  19-23  . 

.     .     175 

V.  vi.  .     . 

.     .     226 

.     .     144 

V.  1      .      . 

.     .     175 

xxii.  21   .     . 

.     .     165 

xvi.      .      .    1 

43,  167,  226 

2  Kings  ii.  9    . 

.     .     176 

xvi.  17    . 

.     .     109 

iii.  15.     .     . 

.     145  n. 

xvii.  7      . 

.     .     142 

vi.  17  .     .     . 

.     .     149 

xvii.  11    . 

.     .     174 

xiv.  25     .     . 

.     .     134 

xviii.  18  . 

.     .17  n. 

xxiii.  10.     . 

.     .     406 

xxi.  11    . 

.     .     175 

1  Cliron.  i.-ix. 

.     .  55  M. 

.     .       91 

xxi.  1      .     7 

i,  157,  202 

Num.  xxi.    4 . 

.     .    175 

2  (^/liron.  xiv.  i: 

.     .    127 

xxiv.  7    .     . 

.     113  n. 

xxxii.  8  .     . 

.    .     174 

Deut.  V.  9   . 
viii.  3  .     . 
xiii.  3  .     . 

.     .     185 

.      104,  105 

.     .     175 

Ezra  ii.  .     .     . 

.     .  55  M. 

vii   6 

.     .     259 

Neh.  ii.  8     .     . 

.     409  n. 

xxviii.-xxx 

.     .     312 

Vll.        .      .      . 

.     .  55  w. 

xxxii.  8   .  1 

\ln.,\h\n. 

vii.  7,  66      . 

.     312  71. 

xxxii.  17 . 
Josh.  v.  1    . 

142  «.,  155 
.     .     176 

.     .     127 

ix.  6    .     .     . 

.     161  n. 

.     .     148 

xii.  11      .     . 

Job  i.  ii.      .     . 

.     .  55  n. 

vii.  24,  25 

.     .     184 

.     .     147 

Jiid?.  vi.  11 

.     .     121 

i.  5      ... 

.     .    227 

ix.  23.     . 
xi.  24.     . 

.     .     145 
.     .     306 
.     .     121 

.     .     165 

iii   8         .     . 

.     .     162 

iv.  15  .     .     . 

.     145  n. 

xiii.  13,  18 

.     .      91 

vii.  17-21     . 

.     .    228 

xiii.  18    . 

.      148,  317 

ix  13  .     .     . 

.     .     162 

xiv.  6 

.     .  92  n. 

x.  1     .     .     . 

.     .     175 

1  Sam.  ii.  16 

.     .     175 

xiii.  25     .     . 

.     .     228 

xii.  23      . 

.     .     228 

xiv.  1-3  .     . 

.     .     228 

XV.       .      . 

.     309  n. 

xix.  2-5-27    . 

381,  388, 

,     .     168 

xxvi.  6    .     . 

389 

xvi.  13,  14 

.     .92n. 

.     404  n. 

xvi.  14-23 

.     ,     145 

xxvi.  12  .     . 

.     .     162 

xvi.  23     . 

.     .     145  n. 

xxvi.  13  .     . 

92  71.,  162 

xix.  20    . 

.     .     .92n. 

XXVIll.       .       . 

98,  98  n. 

xix.  24    . 

.     .     .     170 

xxviii.  22     . 

.     404  n. 

xxviu.     . 

.     .     143  n. 

xxxu.-xxxv 

i.      .98w. 

2  Sam.  v.  1 

.     .     .     174 

xxxiii.  23,  24 

.     .     228 

vii.      .     . 

.184  m.,  316 

xxxviii.  7     . 

.  147,  161 

438 


INDEX   OF   CITATIONS. 


Jobxl. 

xli. 
xlj.  1 


Ps.  ii.  . 

ii.  7  . 

ii.  9  . 

iv.  2  . 

V.  10    . 

vi.  1  . 
vi.  2  . 
vii.  10 
viii.  5. 
ix.  17 . 
X.  6  . 
X.  14,  31 
xiv.  2,  I 

XV. 

xvi.     . 
xvi.  9 
xvi.  10 
xvi.  11 


xvii.  3 
xvii.  15 
xviii.  20- 


XXIV.  . 

XXV.  4 
XXV.  7 

XXV.    1] 

xxvii.  1 
xxix.  . 
xxix.  1 
xxxi.  . 
xxxii. 
xxxii.  5 
xxxiii.  6 
xxxiii.  16 
xxxiv.  20 
XXXV.  3  . 
XXX vi.  2 
xxxvi.  10 
xxxviii.  1 
xxxviii.  3,  20 
xxxix.  8,  11 
xl.  6  . 
xl.  6-8 
xl.U 
xliv.  . 
xliv.  17, 
xlv.  3. 
xlix.  15 
1.  9-13 

I.  16-21 
Ii.  .     . 

II.  1,2 
11.  3     . 

11.4  . 

11.5  . 
11.  10  . 
11.  12  . 
Ii.  17  . 


181 


Pase 
162 
162 
161 
272 
27,  228 
400 
317 
120 

87 
206  n. 

87 
174 
176 
147 
379 
176 

80 

206  71. 

236 

389 

174 


389 
380 
388 
189 
80 
175 
236,  237 


7,  228 
230 
87 
80 
47  n. 
187 
188 
228,  230 
104 
127 


87 

187 

86 

229 

58,  230 

87 

,  332 

189 

317 

380 

230 

87 

206,  236 

86 

228 

230 

191 

,  176 

92  n. 

176 


Page! 

Ps.  hi   4     .     . 

.     174 

Ivil.  4       .     . 

.     175 

Ivlil.  1      .     . 

147  n. 

Ivlll.  2      .     . 

.       78 

llx.  3  .     .     . 

.     189 

Ixii.  5       .     . 

.     .     175 

Ixv.     .     .     . 

80 

Ixv.  2       .     . 

.     174 

Ixvi.  18    .     . 

.     176 

Ixvlii.       .     . 

.     202 

Ixix.    .     .     . 

.     187 

Ixlx. 16    .     . 

.       87 

Ixxi.  20    .     . 

.     380 

Ixxii.  13  .     . 

.     .     175 

Ixxii.  17       . 

.     .     357 

Ixxill.  18-20 

.     .      87 

Ixxiii.  21      . 

.     177  n. 

Ixxlil  24       . 

.     380 

Ixxlll.  26 

.     177 

Ixxiv.       .     . 

.      61 

Ixxiv.  8  .     . 

.     247 

Ixxiv.  21      . 

.     162 

Ixxix.      .     . 

61,  223 

Ixxx.  .     .     . 

204,  223 

Ixxxil.     .     . 

.       78 

Ixxxii.  1,  6  . 

147  n. 

Ixxxii.  6  .     . 

.     422 

Ixxxiv.  2      . 

174,  177 

Ixxxv.      .     . 

.     223 

Ixxxv.  1,  2  . 

.     187 

Ixxxvii.  .     . 

237,  314 

Ixxxix.  48    . 

.     175 

xc.  4    .     .     . 

374  n. 

.      80 

xcv.  5       .     . 

.     155 

xcvi.     .    80,  35 

7  «.,  398 

xcvli.  7    .     . 

147  w. 

xcviii.      .     . 

357  n. 

ci 

237 

80 

ciii.  8-10,  12 

.     227 

ciii.  12-14     . 

.       87 

clll.  13      .     . 

.       84 

ciii.  13,  14    . 

.     228 

CIV.'        .       .       . 

79,  8(1 

civ.  26      .     . 

.     162 

civ.  29      .     . 

204  71. 

civ.  30      .     . 

92  «. 

cvl.  37      .     . 

.     1.^5 

79 

cvli.  20     .     . 

104,  105 

cvlii.  4      .     . 

.       87 

ex 

.     400 

cxi.  4  .     .     . 

.       87 

cxvl.  5     .     . 

.       87 

cxix.  .     .    236 

240.  278 

cxlx.  120      . 

.     174 

cxxxvl.  37    . 

.     142  n. 

CXXXVll.    .       . 

.     18,  61 

cxxxlx.  17  . 

.       87 

cxliii.2     .     . 

.     206  71. 

cxlv.  8,  9      . 

.     .       87 

cxlvlii.     .     . 

80 

cxlvlii.  5 

.     161 

Prov.  i.-ix.      .    I 

8,  100  71. 

Prov.  i.  10-14  . 
ii.  lti-19  . 
iii  13-20  .  , 
iii.  10   .  , 


11  . 
1-5 


viil.  i.-lx.  6 
viii  22,  31 
ix.  13-18  . 
x.  27    .     . 

xlll.  12     . 

XV.  1  .  . 
XV.  11  . 
xvi.  2  .  . 
xvii.  9  . 
xxiv.  17  . 
xxlv.  29  . 

XXV.  1 

XXV.  9 

XXV.  21,  22 
Eccles.  il.  5 

11.  24    .     . 

iii.  21  .     . 

vii.  20 

vil.  28       . 

viii.  12     . 

ix.  10  .     . 

X.  3      .     . 

xli.  9-14  . 
Cant.  iv.  13 

v.  4     .     . 
Isa.  i.       .     . 

i.  10-18     . 

i.  11     .     . 

11.  2-4  .     . 


ii.  6-22 
111.  .  . 
iv.  1     . 


10-12 
14       . 


ix.  6 
ix.  6, 


X.  18    . 
X.  20,  24 
X.  21    , 


INDEX   OE   CITATIONS. 


439 


Isa.  xiii. 
xiii.  21  . 
xiv.  .  . 
xiv.  9  .  . 
xiv.  9, 10 
xiv.  24-32 
xv.-xviii. 
xix.  .  . 
xix.  18  . 
xix.  18-25 

xxii.  15-25 
xxvi.  15,  20 
xxvi.  19  . 
xxvii.  1    . 
xxviii.-xxxi 
xxviii.  11 
xxix.  4    . 
xxix.  8    . 
XXX.  7 
XXX.  33    . 
xxxi.  3    . 
xxxii.  1-8 
xxxii.  10 
xxxiv.  14 
xxxiv.  45 
xxxv.  5  . 
xxxvii.  21-35 
xxxviii. 
xl.  .     . 
xl.  2    . 
xiii.  1-17 
xiv.  7 
xlvi.    . 
xlvii.  . 
xlviii.  16 
xlix.  1-6 
xlix.  5 
xlix.  6 
liii.  .     . 


404  n. 
.  379 
315  n. 
315  /*. 
.     313 

314  n. 
.     314 

315  «. 
315  «. 
.     389 

388.  389 
162,  162  «; 
315  n. 
.  138 
143  n. 
.  175 
.  162 
.  406 
.  174 
.  317 
92  «. 

142,  155 
.  242 
.  330 
315  n. 


166, 
330  n. 


liii.  1-9  , 
liii.  10 
liii.  10-12 
Iv.  11  .  . 
lix.  7,  8  , 
Ix.-lxvi. 
Ix.  .  .  324 
Ix.  10,  12 
Ixi.  .  . 
Ixii.  5.  . 
Ixiii.  3  . 
Ixiii.  9  . 
Ixv.  .  . 
Ixv.  11  . 
Ixv. 17-25 
Ixv. 17  . 
Ixvi.  .  . 
Ixvi.  19-24 
Ixvi.  22  . 
Ixvi.  24  . 
Jer.  i.  5  .  . 
ii.  1  .  . 
ii.  26,  27  . 
iii.  4    .     . 


Page 

96  «. 

155 


.  322 
223,  353 
.  320 
.  146 
390  «. 
396  n. 
92  w. 


225 

280,  322, 

352,  420 

.  224 

.  175 

.  225 

103,  104 

206  n. 

.     311 

,  336  n. 

.     225 

.  313 

.   83 

.  120 

90,  148 

.  374 

.  1.55 

.  311 

401,  408 


.  311 

.  408 

.  406 

.  326 

.  83 
143  n. 

.  83 


Page 
V.  19  .  .  .  177  n. 
28  ....  301  u. 
.     .  229 


vii.  )iz 
X. 1-10     . 

xi.  20  .     . 

XV.   1     .       . 

xvi).  9,  10 
xxiii.  5-8  , 
xxiii.  29  . 
XXV.  8-11 
XXV.  9  . 
XXV.  12  . 
xxix.  7    . 


,  .  315  71. 
.  177  n. 
.  .  228 
,  .  .  191 
315  n.,  316 
.  .  103 
.  .  311 
.  396  n. 
64,311?i. 
.  390  n. 
.  .  311 
.  .  311 
.  .  311 
311  n. 


.XXX       .        .       . 

xxxi.  1-30   . 

xxxi.  31-34  . 

xxxi.  31-40  . 

xxxiii.  14-26  315  7*.,  316 

xxxviii.  17      175,  396  n. 

xii.K 315  n. 

1-lli 315  n. 

1.     .     .     242, 311,  396  n. 
Ii.  .     242,  311  n.,  390  n. 


Lam.  ii.  11  .     . 

.     177  n. 

Ezek.  i.-xxxiii. 

.     315  w. 

xi.  19  .     .     . 

.     .     173 

xiii.  19     .     . 

.     .     175 

xiv.  12-20     . 

.     272 «. 

xiv.  14     .     . 

.     ,      04 

xvi.      .     .     . 

.     .    204 

ji)l 

xviii.  2-4      . 

.     .     185 

XXVIU.        .       . 

.     195  n. 

xxix.  17-21 

.     390  n. 

xx.xi.  18  .     . 

.     404  m. 

xxxiv.  23,  24 

.     .     315 

xxxvi. -xlviii. 

.     .     311 

XX xvi.  20-28 

190,  191 

XXXVJl.      .       . 

.     .     388 

xxxvii.  11-14 

.     .     389 

xxxvii    24,  25 

.     .     315 

xxxvii.  25    . 

.     .     403 

XXXVIII.    .       . 

320,  373 

XXX IX.       .       . 

320,  373 

xl. -xlviii.     . 

70, 133  w. 

xlivl5     .     . 

254,  315 

xlviii.       .     . 

.     374  n. 

xlviii.  11,  35 

.     .     316 

Dan.  i.  8      .     . 

.     192  11. 

i.  8,  12     .     . 

.     .     255 

11 

.     .     320 

ii.  11    .     .     . 

.     .     174 

ii.  44   .     .     . 

.     321  «. 

iv.  8     .     .     . 

.       92  n. 

V.  12    .     .     . 

.     .     176 

vii.  13 
vii.  21-27 
vii.  27 


07  n.,  320,  .321, 
354,  357  «.,  398 
.  325 
.  354 
.  04 
321  n. 
.  320 
.  l.iO 
320,  .329 
.     127 


Dan.  ix.  24,  25 
X.  13    . 
X.  20,  21 


Hab.  i.- 
ii.  14 


Ha^.  ii.  6-9 
Zech.  i.-viii. 

i.  9       .     . 

i.  12     .     . 

iii!i,2     '. 


440 


INDEX   OF   CITATIONS. 


Page 

Page 

Page 
.     .     330 

Zcch.  ix.  9-17 

.     .     ;J15 

Zech.  xiii.  2     . 

.     .      77 

Mai.  iii.  1     . 

ix.  y   .    .    . 

318,  343 

XIV.      .      .      . 

313,  398 

iii.  U  .     . 

.     .       80 

ix.  13  .     ,     . 

.     .     318 

xiv.  20,  21    . 

.     .     315 

iv.  .     .     . 

.     357  n. 

X.  11    .     .     . 

.     316  n. 

Mai.  iii.  iv.      . 

.     .     313 

iv.  5    .     . 

.     .     330 

xii.-xiv.  .     . 

.     .     315 

APOCRYPHA. 


1  Esdras  iii.  iv.     . 

.       56 

2  Esdras  vi.  49-52 

.     162 

vii.  28,  29     .     . 

67  n. 

X.  11, 7    .     .     . 

G7  71. 

xii.  10-32      .     , 

67  n. 

xiii.  32,  37    .     . 

67  n. 

xiv.  9       .     .     . 

67  n. 

Tob.  i.  10    .     .     . 

192  n. 

iv.  7     .     .     .     . 

.     294 

iv.  15  ...     . 

.     294 

xii.  8  .     .     .     . 

.     255 

xiii.  4       .     .     . 

.       84 

xiii.  12-18    .     . 

.     318 

XIV.    /          ... 

.     318 

•Judith  ix.  11  .     . 

.       87 

VVisd.  i.  2  .     .     . 

.      87 

i.  6      .     .     .     . 

.     100 

i.7      .     .     .     . 

92,  100 

11 

192m. 

ii.  23  .  202,  205,  207,  378 

ii.  24  .     .     78,  1.58,  19.5, 

202,  20),  207 

iii.  4 294 

iii.  8 318 

iii.  10 411 

iii.  19 411 

v 411 

V.  1 318 

V.  5 84 

vi.  18,  19      ...     100 

vii.-ix 278 

vii.  22  .  .  .  GO,  297 
vii.  23  ....  297 
vii.  26  .  .  60,  118  n. 
vii.  26, 27     .     .     .     101 

viii 182  n. 

viii.  19,20    ...     219 

ix.  1 105 

ix.  17,  18  .  .  .  279 
xi.  24-26      ...       60 

xii.  1 92 

xiv.  3  ....  79 
xvi.-xix.  .  .  .  127 
xvi.  7  ....  80 
xvi.  12, 27  .  .  .  105 
xvi.  26  ...  .  84 
Ecclus.  i.  4,  9,  15  .  100 
xi.  1-20  ....  100 
xvii.  1  .  .  .  .  205 
xix.  13-17  .  .  .  2i»4 
xxiii.  1  .  .  .  .  84 
xxiii.  29 ...     .     294 

xxiv 100 

XXV.  24  .     .     .     .     205 


Ecclus.  xxviii.  2-5  .  294 

xxix.  2,  12,  20      .  294 

xxxvi.  1-17      .     .  318 

xxxvii.  25   .     .     .  318 

xliv.-xlix.  .     .     .  127 

xliv.  11-21  ...  273 

xiv.  17    ...     .  127 

xlvii.  11  ....  318 

1 127,  247  n. 

1.  23,  24  ...     .  318 

Baruch  ii.  27-35  .     .  318 

iii.-v 66 

iv.  36 218 

V.  5-9      ....  318 

1  Mac.  ii.  42    .     .     .  249 

ii.  57 318 

iii.  18,  19      .     .     .  127 

iii.  48 127 

iv.  9 127 

2  Mac.  i.  9  .     .     .     .7b  n. 

i.  20 127 

ii.  1-8       ....  330 

ii.  8 127 

ii.  13 73 

ii.  18 318 

ii.  23 75 


iii.  24. 
iii.  24  ff. 
iv.  0    . 
V.  2,  3 


124 
140  n. 
.  249 
.     124 

vi 68,  357  n. 

vii.  .  68,  128,  357  n. 
vii.  9,  14,  23  .  .  393 
X.  29,  30.  ...  124 
xii.  40  ....  77  71. 
xiv.  15  ....  318 
XV.  12-16  ...  124 
XV.  13-15  .  .  .  330 
XV.  36     ....       57 

Jubilees  i 327 

iv 160  n. 

As'mpt.  of  Moses  x.    327 

Enoch  i.-xxxvi.  .     203  n. 

i.    .     .    324,  398,  398  n. 

i.  4 324 

vi.  6    .     .     .     .     160  n. 

viii 143 

ix 143 

x.  .  143,  160,  401,  404 
X.  6,  14   .     .     .     .     404 

xxii 411 

xxii.  11  ....  324 
xxvii.  2  .     .     .     .     404 


Enoch  xxxii.  . 
xxxvii. -Ixxi. 
xxxvii.    .     . 
xlv.-lvii. 
xlv.-liv. 
xlv.-xlviii.  . 


xiv.  3 
xiv.  4 
xiv.  5 
xlvi.  0 
xlviii.  3 
xlviii.  6 
xlviii.  7 
Ii 


409 
325 
.  .  401 
.  .  325 
.  348  n. 
.  .  354 
.  357  71. 
65,  343  71. 
.  .  65 
.  .  401 
.  .  401 
.  .  357 
.  65,  357 
.     .     326 


Ii.  1 


Ixi.  12  . 
Ixii.  .  . 
Ixiii.  .  . 
Ixix.  .  . 
Ixxii.-cv. 
Ixxxiv.  4 
Ixxxix.  40 


357  71.,  374,  395 
....     393 

liii 406 

liii.  3  .  .  .  .  203  K. 
liv..  401,404,405,406 
liv.  5,  6  .  .  .  203  71. 
liv.  8  ....  102  71. 
Ivi.      .     ,     .       404,  405 

Ivi.  5 325 

Iviii 401 

Ix 162 

Ix.  8 162 

.     408 

.     374 

.     374 

357  n. 

203  w. 

.     324 

.     398 

357  n. 

.       05 

.     323 

.     324 

,     324 

.     404 

,    404 

,     408 

,     401 

,     374 

411 

411 

325 

357  n. 

361  71. 

322 

357  n. 

357  n. 

67 

325 


xc 

9,  37  .     .     .     . 

xc 

16-38      .     .     . 

xc 

20      .     .     .     . 

xc 

20-27,  33    .     . 

xc 

24,  25     .     .     . 

xc 

26      . 

xc 

29      .     .     .     . 

xc 

33      .     .     .     . 

xc 

ciii 



Sib.  Or.  iii.  36-62     . 

iii. 

56.     ...     J 

111. 

558     ...     J 

iii. 

652-794  .     .     . 

111. 

669  ff.      .     .     ; 

Pss.  of  Sol.  i.-xviii.  i 

ii.  30,  31 .     .     .     . 

xvii 

INDEX   OF  CITATIONS. 


441 


NEW  TESTAMENT. 


Page 


Watt.  ii.      . 

...     329 

HI.  .      .      . 

.     .     .     33;: 

ill.  5-7     . 

...     337 

iii.  i)    .     . 

.     .     .     330 

iii.  Ifi.     . 

.     .     .       94 

iv.  1-U   . 

.     .     .     1G3 

iv.  24 

.     .     .     170 

.     .     .     418 

V.  12  .     . 

.     .     .     410 

V.  16   .     . 

.     .     .     295 

V.  17-19  . 

231,  266,  267 

V.  21-32  . 

.     .     .     295 

V.  22  .     . 

.     .     .    406 

V.  3a-37  . 

.     .     .     295 

V.  38-48  . 

.     .     .     295 

V.  45  .     . 

.       269,  418 

V.  48  .     . 

.     .     .     279 

.     .     .      80 

vi.  1    .     . 

.       268,  296 

vi.  2    .     . 

.     .     .     295 

vi.  5    .     . 

.     .     .    295 

vi.  U  .     . 

.     .    421 

vi.  15  .     . 

.     .     208 

vi.  16  .     . 

.     .    .     295 

vi.  20 .     . 

.     .     268 

vi.  23.     . 

.     .     268 

vi.  33  .     . 

.      340,  343 

vii.  11      . 

.     .     211 

vii.  12      . 

.     .     295 

vii.  17,  18,  2 

0   .     .     211 

vii.  21      . 

.     .    402 

vii.  22,  23 

.     356  n. 

viii.  4 

.     .     266 

viii.  5  ff. 

.     .       86 

viii.  11     . 

346,  402 

viii.  12     . 

.     .     346 

viii.  23     . 

170,  405 

ix.  14.     .     , 

.     .     335 

X.  5,  6      .     . 

345,  418 

X.  20  .     .     . 

.     .       94 

X.  28  .     .     . 

.     .     177 

X.  39  .     .     . 

.     .     178 

X. 41  .     .     . 

.     .     423 

XI.        .      .      . 

.     .     335 

xi.  3,  10.  11 

.     .     329 

xi.  7-19  .     . 

335,  339 

xi.  19 .     .     . 

.     .    102 

xi.  23.     .     . 

.     .     406 

xi.  25-30      . 

.     .     422 

xii.  5,  7  .     . 

.     .     232 

xii.  7  .     .     . 

.     .    264 

xii   24-32     . 

.     .      95 

xii.  24     .     . 

163,  171 

xii.  26      .     . 

.     .     163 

xii.  31     .     . 

.     .       83 

xii.  32     .     . 

.     .     402 

xii.  33,  34    . 

,     .     207 

xin.     .     .     , 

.  360,  394 

xiii.  11    .     . 

.     347  «. 

xiii.  19    .     . 

.     .     178 

Page 

Pao-ft 

Matt.  xiii.  24-30  .     348  n 

Mark  vi.  33,  34,  45  .     420 

xiii.  37-43 

.     .     348  n 

vii.  5,  9-13  . 

.     .     295 

xiii.  39     . 

.     .     .     163 

vii.  10-13     . 

.     .     244 

xiii.  40    . 

.     .     .     402 

vii.  24,  31    . 

.     345 

xiii.  41    . 

.     .     .     152 

vii.  27      .     . 

.     345 

XV.  18      . 

.     .     .     295 

Vlll.      .      .       . 

.    358 

XV.  19,  20 

.     .     .     207 

viii.  12     .     . 

.     179 

XV.  24      . 

.     .     .       83 

viii.  27-30    . 

.     354 

xvi.  13,  14 

.     .     .     329 

viii.  29     .     . 

.     350 

xvi.  17     . 

.       177,  350 

viii.  31    .     .35 

2,  354  n. 

xvi.  18    . 

.     .     .     348 

viii.  38    .     . 

356,  357 

xvi.  24     . 

.     .     .    295 

ix.  1  .     .     . 

356.  357 

xvi.  26     . 

.     .     .     178 

ix.  12.     .     .     . 

.     352 

xvi.  27     . 

.     .  83,  423 

X 

342,  350 

xvi.  28     . 

.     .     423 

X.  23-31  .     .     . 

.      83 

xvii.  10,  11 

.     .     329 

X.  30  .     .     .     , 

.    402 

xviii.  10  . 

.      151,  153 

X.  40  .     .     .     . 

.     343 

xviii.  17  . 

.     .     .    348 

X.  45  .     .     .     . 

.    352 

xviii.  18  . 

.     .    422 

XI 

.     350 

xvui.  20  . 

.     .    423 

xi.  8-10  .    .     . 

.     344 

xix.     .     . 

342 

xii.  9  .     .     .     . 
xii.  12      .     .     . 

336  «. 
348  «. 

xix.  28    . 

.   83,343 

XX. 

342 

xii.  28     .     .     . 
xiii 

.  419 
.     399 

XX.  23      . 

.     .     343 

XX.  28     , 

.     .    420 

XIV 

.    350 

xxi.  23-32 

.     .    335 

xiv.  12-16    .     . 

.    419 

xxii.    .     .     . 

.     .     392 

xiv.  24    .     .     . 

.     420 

xxii.  23  .     • 

.     .     253 

xiv.  62    .     .     . 

.     350 

xxii.  30  .     . 

152,  402 

XV.  1-20       .     . 

.     344 

xxii.  31,  32  . 

.     .    394 

xvi.  2-5  .     .     . 

.     423 

XXlll.  .       ,       . 

.     .     392 

Lulte  iii.      .     .     . 

.     333 

xxiii.  2,  3    . 

231,  266 

iii.  22.     ,     .     . 

.       94 

XXlll.  3    .     . 

.     .     268 

vi.  24 .     .     .     . 

295  n. 

xxiv.  .     .   3( 

50,  399,  402 

vii.  35      .     .     . 

.     102 

XXIV.  20  .     . 

.     301  n. 

viii.  55     .     .     . 

.     178 

xxiv.  26-28 

.     361  n. 

ix.  20 .     .     .     , 

.     350 

xxiv.  30  .     . 

.     361  n. 

X.  16   .     .     .     . 

.     422 

XXIV.  37-51 

,     361  n. 

X.  18   .     .     . 

160,  163 

XXV.   .     .    3' 

)i,  399,  402 

xii.  8  .     .     .     . 

.     152 

XXV.  31-46  . 

.     .     356 

xiii.  3      .     .     . 

.     206 

XXV.  31  .     . 

.     .     152 

xiii.  16     .     .     . 

.     163 

XXV.  41   .     . 

152,  163 

xiii.  29     .     .     , 

409  ra. 

XXV.  46  .     . 

.     .     407 

XV.  10       .     .     . 

.     152 

xxvi.  17 .     . 

.     .    266 

xvi 

.     411 

xxviii.  19      9 

5,  349,  423 

xvi.  19-31     .     . 

.     406 

xxviii.  20     . 

.     .     423 

xvi.  22     .     . 

152,  409 

MaiK  i.  .     .     . 

.     .     333 

xvi.  23     .     .     . 

.     406 

i.  4,  15     .     . 

.     .     230 

xvii.  14    .     .     . 

.     231 

i.  10,  11   .     . 

.     335  ». 

XX.  3,  31       .     . 

.     163 

i.  44    .     .     . 

.     .     419 

XX.  36      .     . 

.52,  153 

ii.  5     .     .     . 

.     .    421 

XXI.        .       .       . 

J60,  399 

ii.  10,  28  .     . 

.     .     3.54 

xxii.  32   .     .     . 

.     273 

iii.  35 .     .     . 

.     .     421 

xxiii.  43  .     .     . 

.     409 

iv.  11  ,     .     . 

.     347  n. 

xxiv.     .       350, . 

58,  423 

iv.  15.     .     . 

.     .     163 

xxiv.  17,  21      . 

.     418 

iv.  26-29      . 

.     348  n. 

xxiv.  19-21       . 

.     422 

V.  9     .     .     . 

.     .     17) 

xxiv.  37-39       . 

.     178 

V.  21-23  .     . 

.     .    422 

xxiv.  45  .     .     . 

.     179 

V.  36   .     .     . 

.     .    421 

John  i.  4,  5      .     . 

.    216 

vi.  17-29      . 

.     .     333 

i.  9      .... 

.     284 

442 


INDEX   OF   CITATIONS. 


Page 

Page 

Page 

John  i.  10  .  .  . 

.  218 

Acts  xii.  15 

.  .  .  153 

1  Cor.  i.  23 

.  .  .  420 

i.  U  .  .  .  . 

.  177 

xii.  23   . 

.  .  .  152 

i.  24  .  . 

.  .  .  118 

i.  18  .  .  .  . 

.  115 

XV.   .   . 

.  .  .  367 

i.  24,  30  . 

.  .  .  102 

i.  29  .  .  ,  . 

.  283 

xvi.  16  . 

.  .  .  171 

i.  29  .  . 

.  .  .  177 

ii.  11  .  .  .  . 

.  125 

xvii.  28  . 

.  .   85 

i.  30  .  . 

.   419,  429 

ii.  12-17  .  .  . 

.  284 

xvii.  30,  31 

.  .  .  412 

ii.  10-13  . 

.  .  .   93 

iii.  3  .  .  ,  . 

.  284 

xix.  1-7  . 

.  .  334  n. 

ii.  16  .  . 

.  .  .  179 

iii.  3,  5  .  .  . 

.  284 

xix.  3  .  . 

.     .     .     335 

iii.  16  .  . 

182,  279 

iii.  6  .  .  .  . 

.  284 

xix.  13-16 

.  .  171 

iii.  23  .  . 

.  .  .  429 

iii.  Ifi  .  .  .  . 

.  283 

xxi.  20-26 

.  .  232 

iv  20  .  . 

.  .  .  402 

iii.  19  .  .  .  .  i 

3,  216 

xxiii.  6-8 

.  .  419 

V.  3-10  . 

.  .  179 

iii.  21  ...  . 

.  284 

xxiii.  8  . 

.  .  253 

V.  5   .  . 

.  .  .  163 

iv.  2  .  .  .  . 

.  348 

xxiii.  9  . 

.  .  152 

V.  7   .  . 

.  .  .  118 

IV.  22  .  .  .  285  / 

I.,  346 

Rom.  i.  .  . 

242  «.,  358 

vi.  2,  3  . 

.  .  406 

iv.  24  .  .  .  . 

88 

i.  3   .  . 

.  .  117 

vi.  3  .  . 

.  .  153 

iv.  25  ...  . 

333 

i.  3,  4.  . 

.  .  429 

viii.  6  .  . 

.  .  .  118 

V 

402 

i.  18-32  . 

.  .  214 

ix.9  .  . 

.  .   80 

V.  1    .... 

231 

i.28  .  . 

.  .  179 

ix.  19-22 

.  .  297 

V.  22  .  ,  .  . 

400 

ii.  .  .  . 

.  283  H. 

X.  4  .  . 

.  .  129 

V.  24  .  .  .  . 

283 

ii.  1-16  . 

.  .  394 

X.  20,  21 

155,  171 

V.  27  .... 

399 

ii.  5  .  . 

.  .  178 

X.  .33  .  . 

.  .297 

V.  28,  29  .  .  . 

393 

ii.  6-11  . 

.   82 

xi.  10  .  . 

.  .  153 

V.  38-40,  46,  47 

217 

ii.  16  .  . 

402  H  ,  429 

xii.  10   . 

.  126  n. 

vi.  15  ...  . 

344 

iii.  9-19  . 

.  .  206 

xii.  14   . 

.     .  177 

vi.  33-63   .  . 

216 

iii.  19-31  . 

.  .  .  420 

xiii.  .  . 

.  .  297 

vi.  37  ...  . 

217 

iv.  .  .  . 

.  403  71. 

xiv.  .  . 

.  .  138 

vi.  44  ...  . 

217 

iv.  25  .  . 

281,  419 

XV.   .  274 

393,  402  n. 

vi.  (i3  .... 

216 

V.  .  .  . 

.  .  82,280 

XV.  15   . 

.  .  181 

vii.  27,  31,  40-42 

329 

V.  12  .  . 

208,  209 

XV.  19   . 

.  .  376 

vii.  49   .  .  . 

241 

V.  12-21  . 

.   208,  420 

XV.  23-28 

.  374  n. 

viii.  12  .  .  . 

216 

vi.  .  .  . 

209,  276 

XV.  23-28,  5 

1-55  .  362 

viii.  24  .  .  . 

412 

vi.  5  .  . 

.  .  .  277 

XV  24   . 

.  .  .  400 

viii.  2(i  .  .  . 

283 

vi.  0  .  . 

.  .  213 

XV.  24-28 

.   118,  358 

viii.  38-44  .  . 

218 

vi.  8-11  . 

.  .  281 

XV.  24,  54 

.  .  164 

viii.  .39,  40  .  . 

218 

vii.   .  271 

276.  283  n. 

XV.  26.  54 

.  .  407 

viii.  44  .  .   16- 

.  208, 

vii.  9  .  . 

.     .     283  n. 

XV.  28   . 

.  .  429 

218  n. 

vii.  10,  14,  2 

4  .  214  »?. 

XV.  44   . 

.  .  395 

ix.  2,  34  .  .  . 

219  n. 

vii.  18   . 

.  .  .  213 

XV.  44,  45 

.  .  180 

X.  3.3-36  .  .  . 

422 

vii.  18,  19 

.  .  .  213 

XV.  51,  52 

.358,  410 

xi.  50  .  .  .  . 

420 

vii.  20 .  . 

21.3,  214 

xvi.  22  . 

376,  396 

xii.  20   ... 

86 

vii.  23,  25 

.  .  17J 

2  Cor.  i.  20 

.  .  429 

xii.  27   .  .  . 

178 

viii.  .  . 

.  .   82 

ii.9  .  . 

.  .  118 

xii.  46   ... 

216 

viii.  2  .  . 

.  .  182 

iii.  17,  18 

.  .   94 

xiii.  2.  .  .  . 

178 

viii.  3  .  . 

.  .  280 

iii.  18.  . 

.  .  279 

xiv.  6  .  .  .  . 

216 

viii.  4-8,  9,  1 

6,  27    93 

iv.  4  .  .  1 

G3,  164,  213 

xiv.  16,  17  .  . 

95 

viii.  7 

.  .  213 

iv.  6  .  . 

.  .  429 

xiv.  .30  .  .  . 

163 

viii.  9.  . 

.  .  279 

iv.  14   . 

.  .  429 

XV.  4  .  .  .  . 

283 

viii.  13  . 

.  .  177 

V.  4-8   . 

.  .  410 

XV.  18,  19  .  . 

217 

viii.  18-22 

.  .  408 

V.  6,  10  . 

.  .  177 

xvi.  7-15   .  . 

95 

viii.  19  . 

.  .  401 

V.  10  .   3S 

8,  394,  399, 

xvi.  8  .  .  .  , 

284 

viii.  28-30 

.  .  279 

402  «.,  429 

xvi.  9   .  .  . 

216 

viii.  38  . 

.  .  153 

V. 19  .  . 

277,  429 

xvi.  11   .  .  . 

218  n. 

ix.  5  .  . 

177,  429  n. 

V.  21  .  . 

.  .  118 

xvii.  2   .  .  . 

177 

ix.  7,  8  . 

.     403  n. 

vi.  12.  . 

.  177  n. 

xvii.  9   .  .  . 

217 

X.  .   .   . 

87,  403  n. 

xi.  14.  15  . 

.  .  152 

Acts  i -v.  ...  8 

8,  2.32 

X. 10  .  . 

.     .  178 

xii.  1-4  . 

.  .  126 

i.-xii.   .  .  . 

425 

xi.  .  .  . 

.  .   87 

xii.  2-4  . 

.  .  409 

ii.  22-24,  32-36 

422 

xi.  25,  26 

.  403  n. 

Gal.  i.  .  . 

427,  429 

jii.l  .... 

232 

xii.  5  .  . 

.  .  298 

i.  4   118,2 

32,  402,  429 

V.  36,  37  .  .  . 

344 

xii.  13   . 

.  .  297 

i.  8   .  .  . 

.  154 «. 

V.  38.  39  .  .  . 

232 

xii.  19,  20 

.  .  297 

i.  11-24  .  . 

.  .  126 

vi.  22  .  .  .  . 

129 

xiii.  1 

.  .  178 

i.  16  .  .  . 

.  .  177 

viii.  26,  29  .  . 

154 

xiv.  17  . 

.  .  402 

ii 

.  .  367 

viii.  32,  33  .  . 

280 

1  Cor.  i.  .  . 

.  .  367 

ii.  7-9   .  . 

.  .  366 

X 

366 

i.  8   .  . 

.  402  n. 

iii 

.  .  271 

INDEX  OF   CITATIONS. 


443 


Gal.  iii.  2, 


iii.  13  . 
iii.  14. 
iii.  19 


iv.  4  .  . 
iv.  6  .  . 
iv.  10,  11 


V.  17-21  . 
V.  19-21  . 
V.  24  .  , 
vi.  8  . 
vi.  10  , 
Eph.  i.  10  , 
i.  20-2-3  , 
i.  21  .  , 
ii.  1-5 
ii.  4  .  , 
ii.  7  .  , 
ii.  9,  10  , 
ii.  11-22  , 
ii.  13,  16, 
if:  ^^19  ' 

iii.'  10  .'     '. 
iii.  17.     , 


vi.  11. 
vi.  12. 
Phil.  i.  6 
i.  (5,  10 
i.  21-23 
ii.  1     . 


I.  e- 


iii.  10.  . 
iii.  20  .  . 
Col.  i.  15-20 
i.  16  .  . 
i.  20  .  . 
i.  24  .  . 
ii.  3  .  . 
ii.  10,  18 
ii.  11  .  . 
ii.  13  .  . 
ii.  14  .  . 


ii.  16-19  . 
ii.  18  .  . 
ii.  20  .  . 
ii.  20-3.3  . 
iii.  1,  .3  . 
iii  1-4  . 
iii.  4  .  . 
1  Thoss.  i.-v. 
ii.  18  .  . 
iv.  .  .  . 
iv.  13-18 
iv.  15-17 
iv.  17  .  . 


Pae 

178 
182 
419 

94 
227 

277 


8  ),  42.) 
94,  279 
419 
278 
213 
178 
8,  213 
213 
297 
433 
433 
154 
215 
178 
402 
282 
370 
281 
2;18 


154,  433 
281 
215 
282 
215 
281 
163 
154 
402  w. 
410  n. 
.  410 
177  m. 
.  118 
.  281 
410  ra. 
.  433 
.  154 
.  407 
.  282 
.  102 
.  1.54 
.  178 
.  215 
.  282 
154,  407 
.  433 
.  179 
.  282 
.  219 


.  410 

.  407 

.  274 

.  163 

.  399 

.  376 

.  358 

401,  409 


1  Thess.  v 
V.  1-11 

2  Thess.  i. 
i.-iii.  . 
i.  3-12 
i.  6-10 
i.  7  . 
i.  7,  8 


1  Tim.  i. 


i.  15     . 
i.  20    . 
ii.  3     . 
ii.  5,  G 
ii.  11-13 
ii.  14  . 
ii.  14,  15 
iv.  10  . 
V.  21   . 
2  Tim.  i.  1( 
ii.  11   . 
ii.  24-26 


15. 
16. 

I  . 

II  . 


1.  la 
1 1-14 
12   . 

.  4-7 
.  5-7 


Heb.  i.  2 
i.  1-4 
i.  2,  3 
ii.  4  , 
ii.  13  . 


IV.  li 

V.  9 
vi.  1 


vi.  4  . 
vi.  5  . 
vii.  10 
vii.  25 
viii.  6 
ix.  6  . 
ix.  14  . 
ix.  22 
ix.  27  . 
ix.  28 . 
X.  4  . 
X.  5-10 
X.  2-3,  36 
X.  29  . 
xi. 

xi.  35  . 
xii.  2  . 
xii.  2,  3 
xii.  23 
xii.  24 


rage 

181 

376 

399 

274 

376 

362 

152 

418 

396 

364 

283 

212 

283 

163 

283,  434 

283 

210 

208,  210 

210  «. 

80,  283 

.  152 

407,  419 

.  283 

.  212 


283 
128 
399,  402  n. 
.  402 
.  179 
212,  283 
.  402 
.  283 
.  212 
.   ?'I9 


.  432 
101,  118 


.  94 

.  181 

.  283 

.  283 
402  n. 

.  94 

.  402 
177  «. 

.  283 

.  283 

.  402 

.  94 

.  227 
402  n. 

.  402 

.  2.30 

.  138 

.  283 

.  94 

.  283 

.  128 


James  i.-v 
i.  12,  15 
i.  18,  27 
i.  21  . 


ii.  10  , 
ii.  19  , 
iii.  6  , 
iii.  13  , 
iii.  17. 
iv.  7  , 
iv.  8  . 
iv.  17  , 
V.  7  , 
V.  7,  8 


V.  l«  . 
V.  20  . 
1  Pet.  i.  3, 
i.  12  . 
i.  22  . 
ii.  5,  24 
iii.  13  . 
iii.  18-20 
iii.  21  . 
iv.  1  . 
iv.  1,  13 


IV.  i) 


iv.  6  . 
iv.  7  . 
iv.  7-19 


V.  10  . 
2  Pet.  i.  11 

ii.  4,  17 

iii.  13  . 
1  John  iv.  17 

V.  10 
Jiide  6 

6,13 

9  . 

21  . 
Rev.  i.-xxii. 

ii.  7 

ii  23 

iii.  5 


ix.  20  . 
xii.  4. 13 
xii.  19 


Page 
358 
207 
270 
178 
297 
243 
170 
406,  406  n. 
211 
101,  297 
163 
211 
270 
376 


273 
211,  270 
.  282 
.  153 
.  282 
.  282 
.  408 
.  411 
.  282 
.  177 
.  282 
402  n. 
.  411 
.  358 
.  376 
.  163 
402  n. 
402  «. 
406  n. 
.  401 
402  «. 
.  397 
.  160 
406  m. 
.  163 
402  n. 
.  376 
.  409 


152 
163 


.  410 
.  399 
.  171 
.  162 
152,  163 
.  364 
364  ». 
.     364 


XVlll 
XIX. 

xix.  13-16 
XX.      .    374 
XX.  1-3 
XX.  2,  7 
XX.  10 

XX.  11 

XX.  12 


364,  399 

.     120 

399,  402 

.     160 

.    163 

163,  164,  406 


397 


444 


IND?:X   OF   CITATIONS. 


Rev.  XX.  IS,  14 
XX.  10,  15  . 
XX.  21      .     . 


P.ige 
40« 
407 
373 


Page  I 
Rev.  xxi.     .     .  374  r?.,  408  j  Rev.  xxii.   .     . 
xxi.  4,  8,  27      .     .     407        xxii.  5,  1],  15 
xxi.  ]4     .     .     .     .     407  I      xxii.  11    .     . 


Page 


407 
411 


PHILO. 


Philo  i.  4  ....  112 
i.  5  ...  107,  112 
i.  6       ...       108,  112 

i.  7 112 

i.  8 112 

i.  50 lOi 

i.  64 20G 

i.  66 112 

i.  79     .     .     .  203  n.,  205 

i.  82 107 

i.  100 26 

i.  128 112 

i  202 102 

i.  207 92 

i.  255 92 

i.  256 92 


Philo  i.  308      .       109,  111 

i.  414 Ill 

i.  415  .     .     .       109,  111 

i.  427  .     .     .       108,  109 

i.  441 128 

i.  4.52  ....     109  71. 

i.  456 107 

i.  481 206 

i.  501 112 

i.  502  .     .    108.  109,  112 

i.  505 107 

i.  511 128 

i.  500 Ill 

i.  501  .     .     .       108,  111 

i.  502 Ill 

i.  025 112 


Philo  i.  030   .  . 

112 

i.  653  .... 

109  «. 

i.  655  .  .  .   110,  112 

i.  656  .  .  .  . 

110 

i.  684  .  .  .  . 

109 

i.  692  .  .  .  . 

128 

ii.  28  ...  . 

108 

ii.  46  .  .  .  . 

107 

ii.  154   ... 

110 

ii.  163   .  .  . 

128 

ii.  385   .  .  . 

102 

ii.  421-428  .  . 

327 

ii.  423   .  .  . 

113  w. 

ii.  435   .  .  . 

327 

ii.  436   .  .  . 

113  n. 

JOSEPH  US. 


Jos.  Ant.  i.  1,  4   .  158  n. 

xi.  8,  4     .     .     .  55  n. 

xiii.  10,  6      .     .  .     253 

xiv.  9,  3-5    ..  .     258 


Jos.  Ant.  XV.  10,  5  2.54, 250  \  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  5,  2  ZU  n. 
xviii.  1,  3  .  .  2.50  n.  I  xx.  9,  1  .  .  .  253  »?.. 
xviii.  1,4...  253  Jos.  War.  ii.  8.  4  .  .  255 
xviii.  1,6     .     .     .     258  I      vii.  6,  3    ....     169 


INDEX  OF   SUBJECTS. 


Abaddon,  404  n. 

Abbot,  oil  Rom.  ix.  5,  429  n. 

Aboda  Sara,  252  n. 

Abraliain,  ia  Talmud,  273;  faith  of,  in 
O.  T.,  275. 

Abraham's  bosom,  409. 

Abyss,  of  Genesis,  161  n. 

Acliajmenian  inscriptions,  391. 

Acts  i.-xii.,  burden  of,  425. 

Adam,  contrasted  with  Christ,  18f);  fed- 
eral headsliip  of,  135  n. ;  in  Ezelviel, 
195;  moral  status  of,  197;  transgres- 
sion of,  in  N.  T.,  208;  contrasted  with 
Christ,  209;  introducer  of  sin,  210. 

Aeshma  daeva,  150. 

Age,  the  present,  in  N.  T.,  343,  355, 
402 ,  tlie  coming,  in  N.  T.,  343,  355, 
402;  change  in  meaning  of,  401. 

Ahriman,  143.  165. 

Ahuramazda,  164;  as  judge,  395. 

Alexandre,  Sibyl  edited  by,  66  n. 

Alexandria,  religious  amalgamation  in, 
43;  Jewish  colony  in,  383;  as  reli- 
gious centre,  387,  395  n, ;  as  centre  of 
logos-doctrine,  432. 

Aliens,  prophetic  treatment  of,  318;  in 
Daniel,  321;  in  the  new  dispensation, 
.328,  329. 

Allegorical,  exegesis^  138;  interpretation 
of  serpent,  203. 

Altruism  in  N.  T.,  295. 

Amesha-(,'pentas,  150. 

Anachronisms  in  religious  progress,  12. 

Anakephalaio-is,  407. 

Ancestor-worship,  143  n. 

Ancient  world.     See  States,  ancient. 

Angel  of  the  Lord,  perhaps  survival  of 
ancient  deit)',  148;  mediating,  228. 

Angels,  origin  of,  91;  appearances  of,  in 
O.  T.,  149  n.;  guardian,  of  nations, 
150;  position  of,  in  N.  T.,  1.52-154; 
later  organization  of,  154;  fall  of,  as 
dogma,  not  in  O.  T.,  161;  names  of, 
168;  rejection  of,  ascribed  to  Saddu- 
cees,  253  n.;  evil,  in  Enoch,  324; 
at  final  judgment,  3.56;  as  ignorant  of 
day  of  parousia,  362  n.\  evil,  judg- 
ment on,  401;  punished,  405;  as  tor- 
mentors, 406;  as  intermediaries  be- 
tween God  and  man,  433. 


Animals,  lower,  mortality  of,  204  n. 

Animistic  material,  reshaped  in  N.  T., 
171. 

Annihilation,  411;  ascribed  to  Saddu- 
cees,  253  n. 

Anthropomorphism  in  conception  of 
God,  87. 

Anthropomorphisms  in  Eden-story,  201. 

Anti-Christ,  in  Paul's  writings,  365. 

Antigonus  of  Socho,  87,  200,  264. 

Antiiiomiauism,  alleged,  of  Paul,  275, 
276. 

Antinomisin,  Christian,  288. 

Antioch,  in  Fisidia,  367;  in  Syria,  367. 

Antiochus  Epiphanes,  64,  320,  365  n. 

Apocalypse,  germinal,  317. 

Apocalypse,  in  Synoptics,  363. 

Apocalypse,  the  N.  T.,  conception  of  di- 
vine justice  in,  82,  83;  moral-religious 
ideas  in,  375;  changing  interpreta- 
tions of,  376 ;  resurrection  in,  393,  395 ; 
final  judue  in,  399;  constitution  of, 
399  «.;  whether  imputed  righteous- 
ness in,  430. 

Apocalypses,  in  N.  T.  times,  361. 

Apocrypha,  the,  patriotic  hope  in,  318. 

Apostasy,  preceding  parousia,  364. 

Apostate  Jews,  249,  321. 

Apsu,  162. 

Apuleius  on  magic,  169  n. 

Arabia,  Paul  in,  427. 

Aratus,  Stoic  poet,  85. 

Aristocracy,  Sadducean,  253. 

Arrested  development,  only  apparent,  3. 

Asaph,  psaliii-writer,  136. 

Ascetic  view  of  bodj',  206  n. 

Asceticism,  whether  a  Jewish  concep- 
tion, 219  n. ;  Essenian,  255;  in  Daniel 
and  Tobit,  255. 

Asia  Minor,  logos-doctrine  in,  432. 

Asideans,  the,  249. 

Asmodeus,  150,  151,  168. 

Asoka,  edicts  of,  38;  theocracy  of, 
303  n. 

Assimilation  of  ideas,  how  limited,  30. 

Assyria,  its  religious  union  with  Israel 
anticipated,  314;  post-exilian  use  of, 
316  n. 

Athenian  view  of  future  judgment, 
395  n. 


446 


INDEX  OF   SUBJECTS. 


Atonement,  by  suffering,  222;  day  of, 
22t5;  later  'Je\vi>li  conception  of, 
280  n.;  in  Enoch-Parables,  32G. 

Avesta,  date  of,  391. 

Azazel,  145,  160,  163;  etymology  of, 
144  n. 


Bartsm,  Messianic  faith  in,  425  n. 

Babylon,  flood-story  in,  194;  in  N.  T. 
Apocalvpse,  363;  "king  of,  his  descent 
to  Sheol,  379. 

Babylonian  influence  on  Jews,  248,  292. 

BabVlonians,  evil  spirits  of,  165. 

"Baptist  Quarterly,"  the,  334  n. 

Barnabas,  367. 

Baur,  works  of,  337  n. 

Beast,  in  N.  T.  Apocalvpse,  364,  375. 

Beelzebub,  171. 

Bel,  Babylonian,  152. 

Berakoth,  247  «.,  273. 

Bereshith  Kabba,  252  n.,  357. 

Bethlehem,  birthplace  of  Messiah,  329, 
330. 

Blood,  seat  of  life,  174;  atonement  bv, 
226,  420. 

Body,  representative  of  sinful  nature, 
177  ;  pneumatical,  180  ;  psychical, 
180;  as  seat  of  evil,  206. 

Bone,  expression  of  ph^'sical  structurci 
174. 

Bowels,  seat  of  compassion,  177  n. 

Brain,  not  in  O.  T.,  177  n. 

Broadus,  "Jesus  of  Nazareth,"  302  n. 

Brotherhood,  human,  in  N.  T.,  296;  Ro- 
man sense  of,  338. 

Budde,  "Bibl.  Urgeschichte,"  205  n. 

Buddhism,  foreign  influence  on,  27; 
broadening  of  its  constitution,  31;  its 
dogma,  38;  birth  of,  out  of  Brahnmn- 
isni,  39;  Messianic  faith  in,  425  ?*. 

Bundchesh,  the,  375. 


C.ESAUEA  PlIILTPPI.  351. 

Calling,  prenatal,  326. 

Canaan,  restoration  to,  311. 

Canaanitish  worship,  234. 

Canonization,  grounds  of,  69,  72. 

Canons,  non-.Jewisli,  68. 

Catholicism,  affected  by  modern  thought, 
435. 

Centralization,  Jewish  religious,  239. 

Ceremonial.  Jewisli,  moral  effect  of,  243. 

Chaldeans,  in  Habakkuk,  310;  in  Jere- 
miah and  Ezekiel,  311. 

Changes  in  faith.  See  Religious  revo- 
lutions. 

Chiliasm,  in  the  Church,  365. 

Ciiina,  state-religion  of,  42. 

Cliosenone,  the,  in  Enocii-Parables,  325. 

Christ,  contrasted  with  Adam,  20it;  hu- 
manity of,  280;  sufferings  of,  modiried 
view  of,  282  ;  reign  of,  signification 
of,  377. 

Christ,  the,  in  Psalms  of  Solomon,  325. 


Christianity,  rise  of,  in  conformity  with 
law,  1 ;  not  obscured  in  Middle  Age,  3; 
influence  of, on  barbarians,  4 ;  of  to-day 
not  inferior  to  that  of  fourth  century, 
5;  whether  a  universal  religion,  .36; 
birth  of,  out  of  Judaism,  39;  the  world 
prepared  for  it,  40;  connection  of,  with 
civilization,  45;  now  spreading,  45; 
unifying  power  of,  370,  371;  perma- 
nent moral  element  of,  414;  conditions 
of  birth  of,  426. 

Church,  the,  relation  of,  to  religion,  39; 
takes  place  of  Israel,  126;  the  Jewish, 
rise  of,  237;  the  Christian,  meciiauicai 
nomism  in,  245;  early  Christian,  com- 
posed of  Jews,  246;  not  source  of  sal- 
vation, 278  n. ;  nomism  in,  289;  how 
far  cosmopolitan,  298  ;  as  etliical  lever, 
301;  in  First  Gospel,  348;  diversities 
in,  359;  its  hope  of  the  Lord's  coming, 
365;  partial  petrifaction  of,  369;  in- 
termingling of  Semitic  and  Hellenic 
conceptions  in,  370;  spiritual  aim  of, 
377 ;  mission  of,  377 ;  in  place  of  Israel, 
396;  passed  from  Jews  to  Gentiles, 
416;  its  coincidence  with  the  syna- 
gogue, 419;  Mosaism  in,  424;  growth 
of  spirituality  in,  428;  ethics  ot,  deter- 
mined bv  Jesus,  434;  creation  of 
Jesus,  435. 

Church  government,  its  relation  to 
social-political  ideas,  13. 

Church  of  England,  progress  of,  43. 

Church  of  Rome,  progress  of,  44. 

Cicero,  on  divination,  169  n.;  ethical 
sentiment  of,  337. 

Citizenship,  Roman,  ethical  effect  of,  298. 

Cleanthes,  Stoic  poet,  85. 

Code,  Deuteronomic,  70  ;  Jewish,  not 
abrogated  by  Jesus,  .368. 

Codification,  iii  time  of  Hillel,  2.52. 

('olony,  the  Egyptian-Jewish,  323. 

Colossians,  conception  of  Jesus  in,  119; 
l()<ros  in,  433. 

Coming  of  Jesus,  hope  of,  359. 

Commission,  the  bai)tismal,  late  origin 
of,  345. 

Communal  immortality.  385. 

Connnunism,  Essenian,  in  N.  T.,  256. 

Communities.     See  Society. 

Community,  ethically  constituted  Israel- 
itish,  317. 

Conduct,  biblical  basis  of,  292. 

Conflict,  between  will  and  nature,  214; 
between  light  and  darkness,  216:  be- 
tween world  and  believers,  216-218. 

Confucius  as  founder  of  a  religion,  25. 

Conquest  of  world,  O.  T.  conception  of, 
377. 

Conscience,  autocrac}'  of,  15;  union  with 
God,  15;  how  viewed  by  Jesus,  2(i9. 

Consciousness.  See  Religious  conscious- 
ness. 

Cosmopolitan  spirit,  Jewish,  294;  pro- 
phetic. 314. 

Cosmos  in  Fourth  Gospel,  216,  218  n. 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


447 


{ 


Creation,  divine  spiritual,  279;  spiritual, 
284 ;  tlie,  as  groaning  in  sin,  401. 

Creation-tablet,  Babylonian,  161. 

Criticism,  biblical,  whether  practised  in 
tirst  centur\%  132. 

Cults,  foreign,  adoption  of,  29. 

Cyrus,  his  policy  toward  exiles,  312. 

Cyrenaic  philosophy,  386. 


Daimon,  155  n. 

Dainionion,  155  n. 

Daniel,  conception  of  sin  in,  192  w.;  no 
nienti(ju  of  Satan  in,  202  ;  political 
element  in,  341;  "son  of  man  "  in, 
354;  judgment  in,  357;  anti-godly  evil 
in,  365  n.\  resurrection  in,  380  w.; 
Persian  influence  in,  390  ;  partial 
resurrection  in,  392;  retribution  in, 
404;  intermediate  state  in,  411. 

Darius  and  young  men,  episode  of,  56. 

Darinesteter,  "  Ormazd  et  Aliriman," 
172  M.;  "The  Zend  A  vesta,"  172  n. 

Davidic  dvnast\-.  |iei|irtuitv  of,  315. 

Day  of  yahwc.in  .^lalachi,"  313. 

Death,  expiatory-,  in  Isaiah,  352;  pre- 
mature, as  j)unishment,  382.  404  ; 
abolition  of,  in  N.  T.,  407:  as  end 
of  probation,  411;  of  Jesus,  in  N.  T., 
428. 

Debility,  moral,  in  man,  214. 

Decay  of  societies,  cause  of,  3  ;  only 
relative,  3,  4. 

Defect,  alleged,  of  ethics  of  Jesus,  290; 
of  ethics  of  N.  T.,  299,  300. 

Defects,  ethical,  Jewish,  332. 

Deification,  of  Jesus,  Paul's  attitude  to- 
ward, 429;  of  men,  whether  Semitic, 
430  n. 

Deities,  heathen,  late  Jewish  recognition 
of,  77,  78. 

Deitv,  tribal,  306. 

Delitzsch,  "  Jesus  u.  Hillel,'"  265  n. 

Delitzsch.  "Wo  lag  d.  Paradies  V " 
306  n.,  409  n. 

Demon,  142,  155. 

Demoniacal  possession,  168,  170. 

Demons,  as  spirits  of  the  wicked,  169; 
tormented,  405. 

Dependence  on  God.  ethical  ai;d  non- 
ethical,  384. 

Depravitv,  total,  whether  in  O.  T., 
190  ff.,' 196. 

Destruction,  future,  sense  of,  in  N.  T., 
406«.,  411. 

Determinism,  biblical,  291. 

Deuterocanonical  books,  75. 

Deuteronomy,  ethical  effect  of,  235; 
loving  obedience  in,  245. 

Development,  ethical,  Jewish,  288. 

Devil.     See  Satan. 

Dillmann,  Enoch-  text  of,  66  n. 

Disciples  of  .lesus,  their  hopes  not  politi- 
cal, 345;  Messianic  hope  of,  358. 

Discourses,  eschatological,  of  Jesus, 
355-360. 


Distress,  national,  in  Psalter,  235. 

Divine  intervention,  two  stadia  in  con- 
ception of,  121. 

Dogma,  unspiritual,  power  of,  369;  as 
modifying  ethics,  397. 

Do^ma  and  conduct,  complements  of  the 
religious  sentiment,  20. 

Dogmas,  Christian,  formulation  of,  435. 

Dullinger,  "Gentile  and  Jew,"  337  n. 

Dorner,  on  biblical  ethics,  302  n. 

Dragon,  in  N.  T.  Apocalvpse,  162,  375; 
Babylonian,  195,  200  n. 

Driver,  in  "  Studia  Biblica,"  .306  n. 

Druinmond,  "Jewish  Messiah,"  66  w., 
326  n.,  330  n. 

Duality  of  man's  constitution,  173. 

Duschak,  "  Bib.-tal.  Glaubenslehre," 
330  w. 

Duty,  filial,  casuistical  treatment  of,  244. 

Dwight,  on  Rom.  ix.  5,  42J  n. 


Earth,  the,  abode  of  the  new  Israel, 
321;  as  scene  of  future  life,  401,  402. 

Ecclesiastes,  date  of,  59;  doubts  as  to 
canonical  character  of,  74;  provi- 
dence in,  79;  conception  of  sin  in, 
192  m. 

Ecclesiasticus,  date  of,  60;  second  pro- 
logue to,  73;  fatherhood  of  God  in, 
84;  idea  of  wisdom  in,  100;  concep- 
tion of  sin  in,  192,  205. 

Eden,  garden  of,  195  n.;  whether  in 
N.  T.,  408. 

Eden-story,  central  idea  of,  198  «. ; 
w  hether  borrowed  bv  Jews,  200. 

Edersheim,  "Life  of  Jesus,"  329  n. 

Egoism,  alleged,  biblical,  299. 

Egypt,  its  religious  union  with  Israel 
anticipated,  .314. 

Egvptian  doctrine  of  bodily  resuscita- 
tion, 390. 

Egyptian  idea  of  immortality,  387. 

Egvptian  influence  on  Jews,  382,  383, 
405. 

El,  .sense  of,  317  n. 

Elijah,  child  restored  to  life  by,  175; 
traii.slati<in  of,  204  «.,  390;  forerunner 
of  Messiah,  329,  330;  as  moral  re- 
former, 333;  model  of  John,  334. 

Eloliim,  sons  of,  167. 

Elohim-beings,  147,  159,  161,  198. 

Enemies,  national,  hatred  of,  242;  O.  T. 
hatred  of,  opposed  bv  Jesus,  268. 

Enoch,  translation  of,  204  n.,  390. 

Enoch,  book  of,  date  and  cliaracter  of, 
65;  whv  not  canonized,  75,  76;  quoted 
inN.  t.,  76;  Azazel  in,  143;  angel- 
ology  of,  149,  1.50, 160, 167,  168;  ethi- 
cal element  in,  324 ;  "  son  of  man  "  in, 
354;  earthly  consummation  in,  356; 
judgment  iii,  357,  374;  calling  of  Mes- 
siah by  God  in,  357;  anti-godly  evil 
in,  365  n. ;  whether  Christian  hand  in, 
395  n.;  judgment  in,  398;  Messiah  in, 
398;  Israel's  future  in,  400;  retribu- 


448 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


tion  in,  404;  new  Jerusalem  in,  408; 
intermediate  state  in,  410,  411. 

Enoch-Parables,  judgment  in,  325,  401, 
404;  resurrection  in,  393;  Messiah  in, 
399;  garden  of  life  in,  408. 

Enthusiasm,  ethical,  in  N.  T.,  294. 

Ephesians,  conception  of  Jesus  in,  119 ; 
logos  in,  433. 

Epicureanism,  387. 

Epistles,  the,  ethics  of,  297,  341;  expec- 
tation of  Jesus  in,  358;  judgment  in, 
401,  402;  immortality  in,  402 ;  Pastoral, 
whether  imputed  righteousness  in,  430. 

Eschatology,  Jewish,  308;  of  Gospels, 
358. 

Essenes,  origin  of,  219  «. ;  purify  of, 
333. 

Essenism,  whether  found  in  teaching  of 
Jesus,  418. 

Ethan,  psalm-writer,  136. 

Ethical  element  in  Enoch,  324. 

Ethical  feeling,  Jewish  advance  in,  396. 

Ethical  ideals,  formation  of,  18. 

Ethical  ideas,  limited  power  of,  39. 

Ethical  standard,  primitive,  2-13. 

Ethics,  religious  sanctions  of,  19;  Jew- 
ish, 48;  of  John  Baptist,  336;  modi- 
fied by  nationalism,  39G. 

Ethics  and  religion,  examples  of  une- 
qual co-existent  developments  of,  18, 
19. 

Eve,  prize  offered  her  bv  the  serpent, 
203  ;  introducer  of  sin,  210. 

Evil,  blotting  out  of,  407. 

Exaltation,  of  .Jesus,  428,  429. 

Exegesis  in  N.  T ,  spiritual  power  of, 
139;  basis  of  truth  in,  139. 

Exile,  Babylonian,  teaching  of,  224; 
worship  during,  246 ;  influence  of,  248. 

Expiation,  pre-exilian  theorv  of,  220, 
221;  double  view  of,  222. 

External  ethical  standard,  difficulties  of, 
239,  240. 

Ezekiel,  his  description  of  Eden,  195  n. ; 
new  covenant  of,  3-32;  "son  of  man  " 
in,  353;  anti-godly  evil  in,  365  n. ;  his 
vision  of  revivification,  389. 

Ezra,  turning-point  in  Jewish  history, 
47;  and  Nehemiah,  advent  of,  50. 


"  Face  of  Baal,"  title  of  Tanit,  89  n. 

Faith,  view  of,  in  James,  270;  transfor- 
mation by,  276;  Paul's  conception  of, 
277  ;  view  of,  in  Ephesians  and  (Jolos- 
sians,  282;  in  Hebrews,  283. 

Faith  and  works,  Paul's  conjunction  of, 
340. 

Faith  in  Jcus,  after  his  death,  425. 

Fatherhood  of  God,  83-86,  269 ;  Jesus' 
treatment  of,  86. 

Fetishism,  Hebrew,  141. 

Fir-t  Gospel,  word  "  church"  in,  348. 

Flesh,  in  O.  T.,  not  impure,  174;  con- 
trasted with  spirit,  178;  hostile  to 
spirit,  213;  as  seat  of  sin,  219. 


Flood-storv,  different  recensions  of, 
194  n. 

Fliigel,  "Die  Sittenlehre  Jesus,"  302  n. 

Folk-religion,  Hebrew,  166. 

Foreign  thought,  how  regarded  by  Jews, 
242. 

Formulating  period  of  Christiauitv, 
435. 

Fourth  Gospel,  conception  of  divine 
justice  in,  83;  spirituality  of  God  in, 
88;  idea  of  divine  spirit  in,  95;  date 
of,  115  n. ;  treatment  of  Eden-story  in, 
207 ;  antithesis  of  moral  powerand 
inipotency  in,  217 ;  conflict  between 
divine  and  anti-tlivine  in,  218;  pro- 
logue to,  284;  regeneration  in,  340; 
baptism  in,  348;  resurrection  in,  393, 
395;  whether  imputed  righteousness 
in,  430. 

Fravashis,  150. 

Frazer,  "Totemism,"  141  n. 

Freedom,  controlled  by  law,  278  n. 

Friedliinder,  "  Sittengeschichte  Koms," 
169  n. 

Friedlieb,  Sibyl  edited  by,  66  ii. 

Fusion  of  different  elements  in  Chris- 
tianity. 370. 

Future  life,  in  Palestinian  works,  251  n.; 
Sadducean  view  of,  253,  260. 


Galilee,  Greek  influence  in,  85,  80. 

Gamaliel,  232,  251;  speech  of,  424. 

Gass  on  biblical  ethics,  302  w. 

Gautama,  his  relation  to  Buddhism,  26; 
to  his  age,  34. 

Gehenna,  400. 

Geldner,  "Zend  Avesta,"  172  n. 

Gen.  iii.,  object  of,  197. 

Gentile  influence  on  hypostasis  of  spirit, 
96. 

Gentiles,  incoming  of,  336  n. ;  accep- 
tance of,  in  prophets,  346;  attitude  of 
early  Church  toward,  340;  uncircum- 
cised,  received  into  the  Church,  366, 
367. 

Ginsburg,  his  edition  of  Jloabite  Stone, 
307  n. 

Glossolaly,  1.38. 

Gnosticism,  whether  Jewish  in  origin, 
219  n. ;  Essenian,  255,  256 ;  Jewish, 
257,  433;  combated  in  (Jolossians, 
257;  Christian,  257. 

God,  help  of,  need  of,  2;  identified  with 
ethical  ideal,  19,  183;  national  life 
regulated  by,  2.38. 

Gods,  heathen,  in  Psalms,  147  n. 

Gog  and  Magog,  373,  374;  in  N.  T. 
Apocalypse,  37-3. 

Golden  Rule,  the,  264,  294,  290,  297. 

Goodness,  personal,  in  N.  T.,  285. 

Gospel,  the,  preached  to  Gentiles,  361. 

Government,  ideal,  317. 

Gratitude,  as  ethical  factor,  300. 

Gratz,  "Geschichte  d.  Jndcn,"  300  n. 

Greece,  victory  over,  in  Zechariah,  314, 


INDEX  OF   SUBJECTS. 


449 


318;  in  Sibylline  Oracles,  322;  or- 
ganized force  of,  338. 

Greek  infiiience,  on  Jews,  liiS,  248,  262, 
263,  395;  in  Jewish  scliooi.--,  2."i2:  on 
Antigonus,  260;  on  Clirit-tiiUiity,  413. 

Greelt  oppression  of  Jews,  319;  in 
Enocli,  323. 

Greek  plulosopliy,  its  effect  on  the 
masses,  301. 

Greeks,  the,  how  regarded  by  Jews,  242. 

Growtii  of  society,  2;  wlien  continu- 
ous, 4. 


Hades,  destruction  of,  374;  in  Theo- 
ponipus,  391;  equivalent  to  hell,  406. 

Harlez,  De,  "  Des  Origines  du  Zoro- 
astrisme,"  150  n.,  172  n.;  "  Avesta," 
172  «. 

Hasidi.n,  the,  249,  321,  323. 

Hatch,  "Essays  in  Bibl.  Greek,"  180  n. 

Hausrath,  "  N'.  T.  Times,"  246  w.,  249  n., 
337  n. 

Heaven,  whether  referred  to  in  Ps.  xvii., 
380  n. ;  as  abode  of  the  righteous, 
401. 

Hebrew  language,  ceased  to  be  Jewish 
vernacular,  136. 

Hebrew  vowel-points,  24. 

Hebrews,  conception  of  Jesus  in,  118, 
119;  its  conception  of  Christianity, 
233 ;  whether  imputed  righteousness 
in,  430;  logos  in,  432;  faith  in,  434. 

Hell,  in  Enoch-Parables,  393;  whether 
in  O.  T.,  404;  in  N.  T.,  406  n.;  in 
Talmud,  412  n. 

Hellenism,  alleged  defeat  of,  262;  in- 
fluence of  on  N.  T.,  286,  287;  in  the 
Church.  370. 

Heman,  psalm-writer,  136. 

Herod  the  Great,  summoned  before 
Sanhedrin,  258 ;  conflicts  in  reign  of, 
331. 

Herodians,  the,  their  effort  to  entrap 
Jesus,  344. 

Herodotus,  on  Persian  religion,  391. 

Heroes,  antediluvian,  100. 

Herzog,  "  Real-Encyclopadie,"  246  n., 
249  n.,  302  n. 

Hezekiah,  Ps.  of,  382. 

Hierarchy,  angelic,  153. 

High-priest,  as  representative  of  logos, 
109  n  ;  president  of  Sanhedrin,  258. 

Hillel,  liberality  of,  259  n.,  328  n. ;  teach- 
ing of,  264-206  ;  moral  earnestness  of, 
333  ;  moral  distinctness  of,  338 ;  moral 
elevation  of,  417. 

History,  later  Jewish  literary,  character 
of,  52. 

Hokma,  the,  ethical  character  of,  294. 

Holiness,  ritualistic,  in  Zechariah,  315. 

Hope  in  God,  Jewish  non-ethical,  308. 

Host  of  heaven,  161  n. 

Humanity,  devotion  to,  in  N.  T.,  300. 

Hypostasis  of  spirit,  incomplete,  94. 

Hypostatization,  arrested,  90,  91. 


Ideal,  religious,  of  Paul,  277;  ethical, 
Roman,  337. 

Ideas  in  the  air,  29. 

Idolatry,  Jewish,  late,  77 ;  how  treated 
by  prophets,  234. 

Idumeans,  the,  conversion  of,  328  n. 

Imagination,  Semitic,  detective,  383. 

Immanuel,  317. 

Immer,  "  Theol.  des  N.  T.",  302  n. 

Immortality,  accepted  by  Pharisees,  251 ; 
Jewish  doctrine  of,  319 ;  national,  384, 
389 ;  doctrine  of,  relation  of  Jesus  to, 
418. 

Imputation,  in  1  Tim.,  283 ;  in  N.  T.,  285. 

Iiiijiutation  of  righteousness,  272. 

Incapacity,  man's  moral,  215. 

Inchnation  to  sin  assumed  in  O.  T.,  197. 

Indeterniinism,  biblical,  291. 

India,  whether  Jews  influenced  b}',  390. 

Individualism,  controlled  bv  an  ideal, 
278;  Jewish  advance  in,  396,  397. 

Individuality,  religious,  cultivated  by 
synagogue,  247. 

India,  as  judge,  395. 

Inheritance,  ethical,  natural,  185. 

Insanity  as  demoniacal  possession,  170. 

Inspiration,  its  relation  to  law,  23,  24; 
Philo's  view  of,  127,  128;  N.  T.  view 
of,  128,  129. 

Institutions,  effect  of  change  in,  4. 

Intercession,  human,  273. 

Intermediary,  Jewish  nation  as,  345, 
346. 

Intermediation,  between  God  and  man, 
Jewish,  421,  431;  Persian,  431  «.;  an- 
gelic, 433. 

Inward  divine  law,  idea  of,  24. 

Isaiah,  the  exilian,  Israel  in,  332. 

Isaiah,  his  denunciation  of  necromancy, 
378. 

Ishtar,  her  descent  to  Sheol,  382. 

Islam,  influenced  by  Jews  and  Chris- 
tians, 27,  28;  simplicity  of  duties  of, 
31;  simpl  city  of  doctrines  of,  32,  38; 
birth  of,  out  of  old  Arabian  faith,  39; 
now  spreading,  45 ;  attitude  of,  toward 
unbelievers,  329  n. 

Isolation,  early  national,  28;  Jewish, 
242;  its  ethical  effect,  293  ;  done  away 
with  by  Christianity,  370,  371. 

Israel,  a  mixed  nationality,  10;  destiny 
of,  224;  prophetic  rejection  of,  336  «. ; 
organized  force  of,  338;  superiority  of, 
339 ;  as  prophet  of  God,  354. 


Jaddca,  55  n. 

James,  its  view  of  faith,  270;  opposition 
to  Paul  in,  275;  indorses  Paul,  367; 
view  of  Jesus  in,  426. 

Jeremiah,  ethical  principle  of,  184;  fore- 
runner of  Messiah,  329,  330;  new 
covenant  of,  332. 

Jerusalem,  in  Enoch,  323 ;  the  new,  324, 
373;  destruction  of,  361,  363;  parent 
church  in,  366. 


450 


INDEX   OF   SUBJECTS. 


Jesus,  the  livinp,  in  Paul's  system,  281; 
his  relation  to  Je\vi^^ll  nationalism, 
28Q;  his  ethical  spirit.  300,  301;  his 
opinion  of  John  Baptist,  335;  his  faith 
in  Jewish  nation,  349;  his  freedom  of 
speech,  351;  his  subordination  to  God, 
358 ;  words  of,  later  interpretation 
of,  358,  35'J;  his  simplicity.  35'J;  hope 
of  his  coming,  359;  sobriety  of  his 
ideas,  359;  source  of  power  "of,  3G0; 
coming  of,  whether  detined  by  him- 
self, 362;  founder  of  Christianity,  308, 
369,  435. 

Jewish  histon',  noble  figures  in,  245. 

Jewish  religion,  jjcrsistence  of,  8;  in- 
fluenced bv  (,'anaanites,  Assyrians, 
Babylonians,  Greeks,  26,  27,  28. 

Jewish  religious  instinct,  237. 

Jews,  in  Egypt,  33;  in  Babylonia,  33; 
religious  isolation  of,  235.  236;  vitality 
of,  238  ;  faithful  to  idea  of  law,  24(); 
their  consciousness  of  enlightenment, 
241;  Egyptian,  251;  modern,  Messi- 
anic ideas  of,  304  «.;  in  Middle  Age, 
305;  as  borrowers,  388,  392;  conyer- 
sioii  of,  to  Christianity,  in  N.  T.,  403; 
restoration  of,  to  Palestine,  404. 

Jinn,  142. 

Job,  book  of,  61;  whether  national,  73; 
description  of  wisdom  in,  98-100; 
(late  of,  98  «.,  157  n.;  Satan  in,  165; 
whether  immortality  in,  381,  385. 

Jodl,  "  Geschichte  d.  Ethik,"'  300  n. 

Johannites,  influence  of,  336. 

John,  npostle,  indorses  Paul,  367. 

John  Baptist,  disciples  of,  334  «.,  335; 
how  esteemed  by  Jesu.s,  339. 

John,  First  Epistle  of,  its  agreement  with 
Fourth  Go«pel,  433. 

John  Hyrcanus,  L,  65.  -323. 

John  Hyrcanus  II..  2.")8. 

Josephu's,  on  John,  334  n. 

Joshua,  priest  and  governor,  316. 

Jost,  "Geschiclitc,"  259  «.,  265  n. 

Jubilees,  desct^nt  of  angels  in,  160  n. 

Judaism,  its  dealing  with  circumcision, 
31;  how  related  to  Hellenism,  263; 
its  severance  from  Christianity,  288; 
religious  organizing  power  of,  30(); 
attraction  of,  for  Gra-co-Koman  world, 
328  n. 

Judas  Maecabaeus,  65,  319,  323. 

Judas  the  Galilean,  258. 

Judgment,  of  nations  in  prophets,  314; 
in  Enoch,  324;  in  Syno])tics,  355,  356; 
in  Sermon  on  Mount,  356  n.  ;  by 
God,  357;  by  Messiah,  357;  general, 
in  N.  T.  Apocalyp.se,  373;  general, 
in  Enoch,  374;  future,  Egyptian,  382; 
allied  to  resurrection,  395. 

Jupiter,  as  judge,  395. 

Justice,  divine,  theological  factor  in,  82; 
taught  by  Jesus,  417. 

Justin  Martyr,  ''  Trypho,"  330  n. 

Juvenal  on  magic  arts,  169  k.;  ethical 
sentiment  of,  337. 


Kemo.su,  Moabite  devotion  to,  305 
King,   Messiah   as,   in    Synoptics,   343  ; 

in  Enoch,  343  ?i.;  of  Israel,  as  iudtre, 

400. 
"Kingdom  of  God,"  germ  of,  321  ». ; 

significance  of,  370. 
Kingdom  of  heaven  in  N.  T..  208 
Kings,  Deuteronomic  coloring  of,  309  n. 
Knowledge  of  God,  by  believers.  422. 
Kohut,  "  Jiidische  Angeloh)gie,"  149  re., 

150  n.,  172  11. 
Korah,  sons  of,  as  psalm-writers,  136. 
Kuenen,  "  Kel.  of  Israel,"  249  n..  306  n. 


Lang,  "Mvth,  liitual,  and  Ueligion," 
199  n. 

Law,  the,  turning-point,  47;  as  factor 
in  Jewish  life,  49;  its  relation  to 
prophecj",  53 ;  its  acceptance,  70,  71 ; 
ethical  power  of,  186;  moral  feeling 
in,  226;  a  civil  code,  227;  its  relation 
to  Christianity,  237;  viewed  as  a 
■whole,  243;  slavery  to,  244;  spiritual 
element  in,  245  ;  Pharisaic  attitude 
toward.  250;  glorification  of,  in  Tal- 
mud, 252:  recognized  by  Jesus.  266- 
268,  419,  421;  its  great  possibilities, 
266  ;  criticised  by  Jesus,  267  ;  in  1 
Timothy,  283;  rejilaces  prophecy,  314; 
observed  by  early  disciples,  348. 

Law,  the  oral,  character  of,  239;  atti- 
tude of  Sadducees  toward,  253. 

Leadership,  individual,  21-26,  34. 

Legalism,  extreme,  of  Essenes,  255. 

Legend,  in  earlier  histories,  55,  56 ;  in 
Chronicles,  56;  in  Pentateuch,  56;  in 
Synoptics,  358. 

Lenormant,  "  La  Magic,"  142  n. 

Levitical  law.     See  Law. 

Levitical  legislation.     See  Law. 

Liberty  of  thought,  Pharisaic,  251  ; 
Christian,  278  «.;  civil,  in  O.  T.,  322. 

Lichtenberger,  "  Encyclopedic,"  302  n. 

Lightfaot,  "  Colossians,"  249  n. 

Life,  Christian,  of  first  century,  208; 
eternal,  in  Matthew,  .356;  Christian, 
how  affected  by  eschatology,  376  , 
new,  on  earth,  iiiDaniel,  380  n. ;  h'lig, 
as  blessing  in  O.  T.,  382;  earthly, 
its  hold  on  the  Jew,  389;  eternal, 
on  earth,  401  ,  Iohl',  as  reward,  404; 
future,  Jewish  nioiiaichical  scheme 
of,  412. 

Lilit,  142. 

Literature,  Babylonian-Assyrian,  382  ; 
jne-Islamic  Arabian,  382i"Phoenician, 
382. 

Liver,  as  seat  of  life,  177  n. 

Logos,  the,  in  Philo,  106-1 14  ;  internal 
and  uttered,  110;  in  Fourth  (iospel, 
115-117,119,  218  II.;  in  X.  T.  Apoca- 
lypse, 120. 

Love,  as  moral  guide,  278;  divine, 
taught  by  Jesus,  417. 

Luke,  eschatology  of,  361  n. 


INDEX  OF   SUBJECTS. 


451 


Luth  rdt,  "Die  aiitike  Ethik,"  etc., 
302  n. ;  "  Geschichte  d.  christl.  Ethik," 
etc.,  302  11. 


MACCA15EAN  State,  323. 

Maccabeau  war,  240. 

Magic  in  Roman  Empire,  109;  Essenian, 
2-56. 

Slagism,  in  Persia,  391. 

Mahdism,  Mussianic  faith  in,  425  n. 

Maimoiiidcs,  2.j2,  288. 

Man,  p-yciiical,  181;  pneuniatical,  181; 
moral'potemy  of,  191,  213;  primitive, 
capable  of  earthly  immortality,  204; 
corrupt  nature  of,  211  ff.;  nature  of, 
in  0.  T.,  212;  fall  of,  218  n.;  his  need 
of  power  of  God,  230;  moral  autocracy 
of,  270. 

Man-god,  death  of,  280  n. 

Manaliem  the  Essene,  254,  250. 

ManichBcism,  failure  of,  43. 

Manuscripts,  early,  liable  to  error,  72. 

Mardociiaeus,  day  of,  57. 

Marduk,  Ba by  1. "preference  for,  305. 

Mark,  Jesus  as  Messiah  in,  350. 

Martensen  on  biblical  ethics,  302  n. 

Martincau  on  biblical  ethics,  302  n. 

Masses,  Jewish,  not  bigoted,  245. 

Mazdeism,  the  later,  lifelessness  of,  38; 
complicated  theology  of,  43  ;  whether 
affected  bv  Judaism  and  Christianity, 
375. 

Mediating  power  between  deity  and 
world,  90. 

Mediation,  human,  228. 

Mediatorial  scheme,  Jewish,  431. 

Meek,  the,  O.  T.  sense  of,  316. 

MegiUoth,  247  n. 

Mendelssolm,  Moses,  288. 

Mercy  of  God,  227. 

Messiah,  the,  whether  mentioned  by 
Philo,  113  re.;  Ephraimic,  280  «.;  rule 
of,  341 ;  popular  idea  of,  344 ;  as  sub- 
ordinate to  God,  357;  as  judge,  in 
Talmud,  357  n.  ;  as  ignorant  of  day 
of  parousia,  .362  n. ;  end  of  reign  of, 
374  «.;  as  conqueror,  376;  as  king, 
376;  God's  vicegerent,  400;  person  of, 
idealized,  400. 

Messianic  hope,  in  Ezra's  time,  49,  50; 
ethical  development  of,  308. 

Messianic  thougiit,  history  of,  331. 

Metapiiysics,  absence  of,  among  ancient 
Jews,  58. 

Metatron,  the,  91  n. 

Meyer,  ''  Gesch.  d.  Alterthums,"  172  n. 

Micaiali,  vision  of,  144. 

Michael,  angel,  64,  1.52;  as  patron  of 
the  Jews,  320;  as  agent  of  salvation, 
398. 

Midrash  Tanchuma,  252  n. 

Millennarian  tendencies,  in  the  Church, 
365  n. 

Millennium,  the,  in  N.  T.  Apocalypse, 
373. 


Mills,  "The  Zend  Avesta,"  172  n. 

Mind,  equivalent  to  spirit,  179. 

Miracles,  ascribed  to  Jesu>  in  Synoptics, 
125;  in  Fourth  Gospel,  125;  "post-bib- 
lical, 126;  of  Messiali,  32J,  JiM. 

Mishna,  beginning  of,  204. 

Mi>sioii  of  I'nan^i'cs.  251. 

Mithia,  as  mrdiat,,!-.  431  n. 

Moabile  SK.iir,  ;;i)7  n. 

Moiianiiui-d,  fouiuler  of  Islam,  26;  rep- 
resented bis  age,  34;  titted  his  ideas 
into  the  existiiig  system,  40;  theoc- 
racy of,  3u3  n. 

Monotheism,  when  established,  47;  its 
nature,  48;  effect  of,  on  national  char- 
acter, 78;  imperfect,  147  «.;  Jewish, 
423. 

Moral  agencies,  supei'natural,  not  differ- 
entiated, 146. 

Moral  capability  in  man,  213. 

Moral  codes,  origin  of,  10-18. 

JNIoral  crises  in  life,  21,  22. 

iVIoral  earnestness,  prophetic,  318. 

Moral  ideal,  Jewish,  328. 

Moral  order,  aimed  at  by  the  Church, 
377. 

Morality  of  Sadducees,  201. 

Morals,"  pre-prophetic,  184;  prophetic, 
184. 

Moses,  his  relation  to  Israelitism,  25. 

Mystery,  in  teaching  of  Jesus,  347  n. 

Myth  o"f  serpent,  198-200. 

Mythologies,  Graco-Koman,  decline  of 
338. 


Nakedness,  ethical  aspect  of  sense  of, 
197  n. 

"Name  of  Baal,"  title  of  Ashtoreth, 
89  «. 

Nathan,  parable  of,  184  re. 

National  consciousness  of  innocence, 
189. 

Nationalism,  shades  of,  249;  Pharisaic, 
250;  of  Jesus,  208;  in  Fourth  Gos- 
pel, 284 ;  in  Enoch,  .324 ;  stress  laid 
on,  328 ;  Jewish,  as  affecting  ethics, 
396. 

Naions,  foreign,  their  relation  to  Israel, 
318. 

Natural  law.  O.  T.  idea  of,  121,  122. 

Nature,  tenderness  for,  ascribed  to  God, 
80,  81. 

Nazarites,  219  n.,  255. 

Nebuchadnezzar,  Httitude  of  prophets 
toward,  311. 

Necromancy,  142  n. ;  opposed  by  proph- 
ets, 378.  ■ 

Neliemiah,  alleged  lilirary  of,  73. 

Nero,  as  anti-Christ,  363"  ff. ;  as  man  of 
lawlessness,  364. 

New  Testament,  claim  to  inspiration  in, 
129-131. 

Nicolas,  "  Des  Doct.  Eel.  d.  Juifs," 
172  «. 

Nineveh,  in  Nahum,  310. 


452 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Nomism,  control  of  conception  of  sin  bj', 
VM;  two  ek'inents  iu,  237;  allei^ed 
victory  of,  202;  of  Jesus,  2tiG,  268, 
2(0);  its  need,  2G6;  Jewish,  2i7;  na- 
tional, 28U;  and  antinomism,  289. 

Nou-niiraculous  view  of  life  in  (J.  T., 
122,  123. 

Non-resistance  in  N.  T.,  25G,  257; 
taught  bv  Jesus,  267;  in  Sermon  on 
Mount,  295  n. 


Ob,  142  n. 

Obedience,  inability  of,  to  save,  212. 

Oehler,  "  O.  T.  Theology,"  302  n. 

Old  Testament,  idea  of  divine  sjiirit  in, 

92;   whether    word   livpostatized   in, 

103,  10-1;  claim  to  inspiration  in,  129; 

N.  T.  view  of,  131,  132;  authorsiiip 

of,  how  decided  bv  early  critics,  132- 

136. 
Omnipotence  ascribed  to  God,  79. 
Omnipresence  ascribed  to  God,  79. 
Omniscience  ascribed  to  God,  79. 
Onias,  temple  of,  314  ii. 
Oriental  religious,  whether  they  affected 

Jews,  257. 
Organization,    Jewish    religious,     239, 

240,  241 ;  social,  its  ethical  effect,  293  ; 

ethical-religious,  338. 
Orthodoxy,  Mosaic,  antagonism  of  Jesus 

to,  352  ;  its  antagonism  toward  Jesus, 

352. 
Osiris,  as  judge,  395. 


Palestine,  as  scene  of  judgment,  398. 

Palingenesis,  the,  343. 

Pantheism,  not  in  0.  T.,  175. 

Parables,  of  Jesus,  resurrection  in.  394. 

Paradise,  406,  409. 

Paralyzing  effect  of  casuistry.  244 

Parousia,  Messianic  judicial,  358 ;  in 
N.  T.,  .362;  moral  efl'ect  of  expecta- 
tion of,  363  ;  moral  power  of,  376. 

Parsee  religion,  persistence  of,  8;  stag- 
nation of,  9. 

Parthian  invasion  of  Palestine,  325. 

Particularism,  national,  48;  national, 
Jewish,  349. 

Patriots,  Jewish  exilinn,  312. 

Paul,  as  interpreter  of  Je^us,  35,  38; 
illogical  nationalism  of,  81:  his  idea 
of  divine  justice,  82:  his  conception 
of  divine  spirit,  93;  his  idea  of  wis- 
dom, 102;  his  conception  of  Jesus  as 
glorified  Messiah,  117,  118  ;  his  alle- 
gorical interpretation,  1-38;  treatment 
of  Eden-story  by,  207;  his  doctrine  of 
moral  incapacity,  212;  assumes  good- 
ness in  man's  will,  214;  affirms  man's 
moral  impotency,  214;  his  picture  of 
the  Roman  world,  214;  his  view  of 
nature  of  Messiah's  death,  232  ;  puri- 
fication-offering of,  232;  character  of 
his  thought,  271 ;  tiis  attitude  toward 


the  Messiah,  271,  272;  his  feeling 
toward  Jewish  ordinances,  271;  his 
expectation  of  Christ's  second  coming, 
274;  his  intuition  of  the  Messiah,  274; 
his  moral  earnestness,  274;  his  view 
of  Abraham's  taith,  275;  his  attitude 
toward  ethical  principle,  278  jj.;  his 
view  of  Christ's  luinianity,  280  ;  self- 
adaptation  of,  297;  etliical  influence 
of,  301;  his  conjunction  of  faiili  and 
works,  340 ;  as  preacher  to  Gentiles, 
346;  his  view  of  the  parousia,  302; 
his  conflict  with  extreme  conserva- 
tives, 367;  his  contribution  to  Chris- 
tianity, 308  ;  his  view  of  Messianic 
reign,"  374  n.;  epistles  of,  immortality 
in,  377  ;  his  view  of  resurrection,  393, 
394;  his  conception  of  Messianic  judg- 
ment, 399,  400;  his  view  of  future  of 
Israel,  403  7i. ;  his  view  of  abolition  of 
death,  407 ;  his  view  of  regeneration 
ol  tlie  eartli,  408;  his  view  of  interme- 
diate state,  41U;  non-Jewish  clement 
in.  413;  as  Christian  leader,  416;  ids 
appeal  to  Pharisees,  419;  his  autobi- 
ography, 427  ;  his  attitude  toward  de- 
ification of  Jesus,  429. 

Perfection,  human,  in  Fourth  Gospel, 
285. 

Persian  ideas,  influence  of,  374,  375. 

Persian  influence,  on  Jews,  151,  168, 
248,  292,  390,  405,  431  n. ;  on  Chris- 
tianity, 413. 

Persiankingdom,  permanence  of,  304. 

Persian  religion  compared  with  Jewish, 
172. 

Persius,  ethical  sentiment  of,  337. 

Person  of  Jesus,  tAvo  lines  in  construc- 
tion of,  120;  idealized,  358. 

Peter,  church  founded  on,  348;  protest 
of,  against  Messiah's  death,  351;  re- 
proved by  Jesus,  351;  vision  of,  366; 
indorses  Paul,  367;  his  view  of  Jesus, 
422. 

Ptleiderer,  "Moral  u.  Religion,"  302  «. ; 
"Religionspliilosophie,"  302  n. 

Pharisees,  attacked  by  Jesus,  245;  recog- 
nized by  Jesus,  206;  their  doctrine  of 
imputation,  273;  under  Hasmoneans, 
325;  their  aversion  to  revolt,  331 ;  their 
fear  of  Jesus,  344;  Jesus  intelligible 
to,  348  n. 

Philo,  his  conception  of  divine  spirit, 
92;  his  eoncoi)tion  of  wisdom.  101. 
102;  his  idea  of  the  logos,  H)6-114; 
influence  of,  on  Fourth  Gospel,  117; 
his  view  of  iiis])iration,  127,  128; 
makes  woman  author  of  sin,  210; 
"  Contemplntive  Life,"  255  n. ;  exeget- 
ical  method  of,  388;  his  relation  to 
Colossians  433. 

Philosophv,  Cvnical  in  F.ecles..  ,59;  I'la- 
tonicaiul  Sloic  in  Wisdom,  60;  Jewish, 
97;  Hebrew  ethical,  291;  Greek  scep- 
tical, 385,  38;. 

Pilate,  his  view  of  Jesus,  344. 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


453 


Pirke  Aboth,  247  n.,  251  n.,  259  w. 

PJato,  '•  Apolo>;y,"  395  ft. 

Platouisni,  iiitiuence  of,  on  Jews,  97, 
38ti,  387. 

Pleioiiia,  in  Christ,  407;  gnostic,  433. 

Pliny,  "Hist.  Nat.,"  255  n. 

Plutarch,  ethical  sentiment  of,  337;  on 
resurrection,  391. 

Political  annihilation  and  religious 
growtli,  238. 

Political  idea,  the,  in  Daniel,  322;  in  the 
Sibvl,  323. 

Poor,"tiie,  technical  0.  T.  sense  of,  316. 

Prayer  for  the  dead,  77  n. 

Pre-existence  of  Messiah  in  Enoch-Par- 
ables, 326. 

Prescriptions,  as  enfeebling  spiritualitv, 
3G9. 

Priesthood,  of  Christ,  283. 

Priesthood,  Levitical,  perpetuity  of, 
315. 

Priests,  conservatism  of,  254. 

Primitive  idea  of  animals,  199. 

Prince  of  this  world.  218  n. 

Probation,  future,  411. 

Problem  of  evil,  N.  T.  S(diition  of,  171. 

Prophecies,  pre-exilian,  315  n. 

Prophecy,  view  of,  in  Zechariah  and 
Joel,  54. 

Prophet,  the  false,  in  N.  T.  Apocalvpse, 
373. 

Prophetic  writings,  conception  of  sin  in, 
190. 

Prophets,  the,  formulators  of  monothe- 
ism, 47;  their  treatment  of  idolatrj', 
234;  interested  in  the  nation  as  a 
whole,  236;  peculiar  to  Israel,  2-38; 
their  conception  of  covenant,  307; 
their  interpretation  of  history,  307 ; 
ethical  reproofs  of,  332:  their  view  of 
Jewish  nation  a<  internieiliary,  345; 
rejection  of  Israel  in,  340:  judgment 
in,  356:  nationalism  in  ethics  of, 
396  n.;  Jerusalem  in,  408. 

Proselytism,  origin  of,  328  7i. 

Protestantism,  affected  by  modern 
thought,  435. 

Proverbs,  date  of,  58,  100  «.;  old  Se- 
mitic eschatologv  of.  385. 

Psalm  xliv.,  date  of,  189. 

Psalm  li.,  unique  conception  of  sin  in, 
192. 

Psalm  cxix.,  its  motive,  240;  idea  of 
ri'ihteousness  in,  208. 

Psalms,  llabylonian.  penitential,  382. 

Psalms,  the,'date  of,  61;  providence  in, 
80;  conception  of  sin  in,  186  ff.; 
whether  immortality  in,  380,  381. 

Psalms  of  Solomon,  "judgment  in,  357; 
Messiah  in,  398  ;  Israel's  future  in.  400. 

Psychological  questions  suggested  hy 
Eden-story,  198. 

Ptolemj'  Euergetes,  60  «. 

Ptolemy  Physcon,  60  n. 

Public  worship  of  Ezra's  time,  effect  of, 
48. 


Punishment,  eternal,  in  Matthew,  356. 
Purgatorial  sutt'ering,  411,  412. 
Puritication,  national,  preached  by  Johi: 

Baptist,  333. 
Purim,  57. 


Rabbis,  their  attitude  toward  Greek 
study,  251. 

Ransom,  Jesus  as,  352,  353. 

Kechabites,  the,  219  «.,  255. 

Reconciliation  of  man  to  God,  222,  407. 

Records,  Jewish,  antiquity  of,  241. 

'•  Records  of  the  Past,"  307  7i. 

Redemption,  national,  in  Philo,  327; 
popular  hope  of,  327. 

Relbrm  of  John  Baptist,  value  of,  335,336. 

Reloi  ination.  moral,  of  Jesus,  339. 

Reformers,  not  alwa^-s  understood  by 
contemporaries,  35. 

Regeneration,  ethical,  as  held  bv  Jesus, 
340;  in  Fourth  Gospel,  340;"  of  hu- 
manity, taught  by  Jesus,  377;  social, 
era  of,  401;  of  external  world,  408;  in 
.future  lile,  412. 

Religion,  a  branch  of  sociology,  1;  so- 
cial character  of,  1 ;  ))roduct  of  national 
thought,  7;  dependent  on  social  or- 
ganization, 8;  tends  to  coalesce  with 
ethics,  19 ;  and  ethics,  difference  in 
their  points  of  view,  20;  absolute 
power  of,  on  what  dependent,  21; 
practical  power  of,  on  what  dependent, 
21 ;  force  in  propagation  of,  32;  the  ab- 
solutely universal,  36;  how  dependent 
on  organization,  39;  effect  of  slavish 
nomisni  on,  244;  influence. of  syna- 
gogues on,  247;  Israelitish,  embraced 
by- aliens,  318. 

L'llii^iiiiis,  liarbarous,  history  of,  44. 

lIcliL'iiiii^  that  have  perished',  7. 

Ijili-icius  cause  of  failure,  5. 

Religious  consciousness  defined,  1. 

Religious  decaA-  only  seeming,  5. 

Religious  discoveries,  liberating  effect 
of,  24,  25. 

Religious  gatherings  in  Malachi,  246. 

Religious  ideas,  gradual  victory  of,  33. 

Religious  influence,  international,  extent 
of,  26. 

Religious  life,  later  Jewish,  activity  of, 
248. 

Religious  necessitj'  of  growth,  2,  5,  6. 

Religious  progress  marked  by  flows  and 
ebbs,  21;  from  less  to  more  general, 
30. 

Religious  revolutions,  how  accom- 
plished, 6. 

Religious  sects,  danger  of  narrowness,  6. 

Religious  sentiment,  its  content  deter- 
mined by  science  and  ethics,  20. 

Religious  thinkers,  when  influential,  6. 

Religious  thought,  diverse  tendencies  of, 
192  n. 

Religious  vigor,  relative  to  size  of  com- 
munity, 5. 


454 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Religiousness,  ethical  and  non-ethical, 
384  w. 

Kenan,  "Historv  of  Israel,"  306  n. ; 
"  L'Antechrist,""  36-1  n. 

Renegades,  in  Enoch,  324. 

Repentance,  prophetic  doctrine  of,  •2-2 1. 

Restoration,  the,  religious  struggle  of, 
313. 

Resurrection,  accepted  bv  Pharisees, 
251;  of  Jesus,  280,  358;  in  Daniel, 
320  ;  as  contained  in  immortality, 
.394  n. 

Retaliation,  opposed  by  Jesus,  267. 

Retribution,  divine,  in  N.  T.,  407. 

Retrogression.     See  Decay. 

Revelation,  received  bv  Paul,  427  i 

Reward,  divine,  in  O.T.,  261. 

Rewards,  promised  by  Jesus,  343. 

Righteous,  the,  82;  in  Daniel,  321,  322. 

Righteousness,  consciousness  of,  in 
Psalms,  188;  of  Christ,  209;  prophetic 
conception  of,  235;  twofold  source  of, 
236;  later  Jewish  idea  of,  243;  nomis- 
tic  definition  of,  244;  Jesus'  concep- 
tion of.  268,  269;  transference  of,  272; 
as  held  bv  Jesus  and  Paul,  281;  in 
Fourth  Go'spel,  283-285;  ethical,  287; 
and  prosperity,  309  ,  prophetic,  318; 
national,  consciousness  of,  332  ;  hu- 
man, as  condition  of  salvation,  421; 
exaltation  of,  429. 

Ritual,  expression  of  dogma,  20;  de- 
basing tendency  of,  186;  elaboration 
of,  2.30;  organization  of,  313  ;  Egj-p- 
tian,  382, 

Roman  empire,  magic  in,  169;  ethicai 
progress  in,  337;  as  persecutor,  363 ; 
destruction  of,  in  N.  T.  Apocalypse, 
361,  373. 

Roman  religion  of  first  century,  iifeless- 
ness  of,  38. 

Roman  world,  Paul's  picture  of,  214. 

Rome,  organized  force  of,  338. 

Roth,  on  Persian  eschatology,  375  7i. 

Royal  law,  the,  297. 


Sauatier,  on  N.  T.  Apocalyps     375  n. 

Sabbath,  tlie,  observed  by"  Christians, 
361  n. 

Sacerdotal  system  of  N.  T.,  48. 

Sacrifice,  vicarious  element  in,  226;  out- 
ward, insufficiency  of,  230;  Essenian 
hostility  to,  255,256  ;  Messianic,  280  ; 
of  Christ,  in  Fourth  Gospel,  283  ;  of 
Christ,  high  conception  in,  290  ;  of 
Jesus,  in  N.  T.,  428. 

Sadducees,  failure  of,  261;  under  Has- 
moneHns,  325;  aversion  of,  to  revolt, 
331;  reject  resurrection,  392. 

Saints,  the,  in  Daniel,  320,  321;  reign 
of.  .362,  .374;  as  judges  of  the  wicked, 
406. 

Sa'ir,  142,  145. 

Salter,  "Ethical  Religion,"  .302  n. 

Salvation,  not  in  churcli,  278  n.;  super- 


natural, 279;  advance  in  intensity  of, 
methods  of,  290 ;  through  king,  316  ff. ; 
held  to  be  of  Jews,  346 ;  how  defined 
by  Jesus,  418;  as  reward  of  obedience 
to  the  law,  425. 

Samuel,  Deuteronomic  coloring  of,  309  «. 

Sassanians,  the,  theocracy  nf,  303  n. 

Satan,  as  angel  of  light,  152;  identifica- 
tion of,  with  serpent,  158,  202;  his  fall 
from  heaven,  160;  in  Enoch,  163; 
identification  of,  with  Azazel,  203  n. ; 
blinding  power  of,  213;  in  N.  T. 
Apocalvpse,  373  ;  imprisonment  of, 
374. 

Satisfaction  in  God,  earthly,  in  O.  T., 
379  ft-. 

Scepticism,  religious,  among  early  Jews, 
53;  Sadducean,  253:  Semitic,  390. 

Schneckenbiirger,  on  baptism  of  John, 
334  n. 

Schodde,  Enoch,  translation  of,  06  n., 
.326  n. 

Schools,  legal,  231;  Jewish,  Greek  in- 
fluence in.  252. 

Schultz,  ^'Alttestamentl.Theol.,"  302  ». 

Schiirer,  "  Geschichte,"  66  «.,  246  «., 
249  n.,  263  n.,  326  n.,  330  n.,  337  n. 

Science,  as  handmaid  of  religion,  15. 

Scientific  views  of  N.  T.  times,  360. 

Scion,  royal,  316. 

Scribes,  early,  qualifications  of,  72  ;  as 
leaders  of  legal  study,  259;  doctrinal 
studies  of,  319 ;  concurrence  of  Jesus 
with,  419. 

Scriptures,  public  reading  of,  247. 

Second  coming  of  Christ,  274. 

Second  Maccabees,  judgment  in,  357. 

Sects.     See  Religious  sects. 

Seeley,  "Ecce  Homo,"  302  n. 

Self-abandonment,  as  eiliical  factor,  300. 

Self-culture,  moral,  obligation  of,  299. 

Semitic  and  Hellenic  ideas,  united  in 
Christianity,  370. 

Semitism,  in  the  Church,  370. 

Semyaza,  160. 

Seneca,  ethical  sentiment  of,  337. 

Sensual  pleasure,  serpent  symbol  of, 
203  n. 

Separateness,  social,  of  early  Christians, 
297. 

Sermon  on  Mount,  no  mention  of  divine 
spirit  in,  94  ;  whether  Essenism  in, 
2.36,  2-57;  ethics  of,  294-296  ;  content 
of,  340 ;  judgment  in,  356,  396;  heaven 
in,  409. 

Serpent,  the,  in  Genesis,  158,  195  ;  pun- 
ishment of,  197:  animal  nature  of, 
199  ;  allegorically  interpreted,  203. 

Servant  of  Yahwe",  225  ;  suffering  of, 
.352. 

Seven  Brothers,  story  of,  in  2  Maccabees, 
393. 

Shabbath,  2.39  n. 

Shades,  the,  consultation  of,  378. 

Shamash,  as  judge,  395. 

Shammai,  severity  of,  259  ».,  264. 


INDEX   OF   SUBJE("TS. 


455 


Shekina,  the.  90  n. 

Wheol,  negative  character  of,  204 ;  ex- 
istence in,  378  ;  as  motive  for  present 
life,  ySl;  in  O.  T.,  381;  in  Enoch- 
Parables,  393 ;  whether  moral  dis- 
tinciions  in,  404 ;  whether  Paradise 
in,  409. 
Sibylline  Oracles,  why  not  canonized, 
75  ;  earthly  consunnnation  in,  356 ; 
judgment  in,  357 ;  Israel's  future  in, 
400.' 

Simon  the  Just,  247  n.,  259,  264. 

Simplicity  of  Jesus,  359. 

Sin,  primitive  view  of,  183  ;  religious 
and  ethical  sides  of  consciousness  of, 
187;  O.  T.  view  of  nature  of,  190; 
idea  of,  how  controlled  bv  nomism, 
193;  in  O.  T.  forefathers,  193  ;  in  O. 
T.,  whether  nature  or  teiidencj-,  193  ; 
origin  of,  in  ().  T.,  193  ft'.;  initial  act 
of,  19C  ;  uiiiversalitv  of,  in  N.  T.,  206; 
beginning  of,  in  N.  T.,  208;  N.  T. 
concfption  of,  220;  etliical  escape 
from,  222  ;  relation  of  suffering  to, 
223-226  ;  inward,  227  :  sense  of,  de- 
veloped by  the  law,  227  ;  in  Fourth 
Gospel,  284. 

Sinai,  as  scene  of  judgment.  398  n. 

Sinfulness,  not  bodily,  174. 

Sins  of  ignorance,  226. 

Smith,  "  Diet,  of  Bible,"  409  n. 

Smith,  "  Religion  of  the  Semites," 
141  M. 

Society,  see  Decay,  Growth:  apparent 
stagnation  of,  3;  ethical  organization 
of,  338;  perfect,  conception'of,  3(i0. 

Soc.  of  Bibl.  Lit.  and  Exeg.,  Journal  of, 
429  «. 

Soferim,  the,  259. 

Solidarity,  ethical  principle,  184,  18.5; 
national,  272;  national,  period  of, 
315. 

Solomon,  perhaps  author  of  proverbs, 

"  Son  of  God,"  whether  claim  to  super- 
human nature  in,  422. 

Son  of  man,  in  Daniel,  320  ;  coming  of, 
361 ;  as  Lord  of  angels,  423. 

Son  of  Yahwe,  as  epithet  of  king,  317. 

Song  of  Songs,  doubts  as  to  canonical 
authoritv  oif,  74. 

Song  of  Three  Children,  273. 

Sonship,  spiritual,  270. 

Sophistrv,  moral,  exposed  by  Jesus, 
340. 

Soul,  the,  limits  of  development,  2 ; 
equivalent  to  person,  175;  used  for 
dead  body,  175;  equivalent  to  life, 
178 ;  and  spirit,  difference  between, 
181;  of  Adam,  181;  of  Christ,  181; 
Christian  view  of,  182;  schism  in, 
213;  direct  appeal  of,  to  God.  2-30; 
death  of,  ascribed  to  Sadducees,  253  n. 

Spiegel,  "  Eranische  Alterthumskunde," 
150  7?.,  172. 

Spirit,   whether  hypostatized    in   Bible, 


92-96;  the  divine,  Philo's  conception 
of,  92;  Paul's  conception  of,  93;  Tal- 
mudic  conception  of,  93  «.;  use  of,  bv 
Augustan  writers,  182  n. ;    hostile  to 
flesh,  213;  holy,  John  Baptist's  refer- 
ence to,  334  n.' 
Spirits,   guardian,   Persian,    151  ;    evil, 
Persian,  155;   good,   no  organization 
of,  in  Bible,  170. 
Spiritualitv  in   Judaism,  245,  265;    of 
Paul,  276;   of  Jesus,  342,  355,   418  ; 
as  suggesting  immortalitv,  384. 
Stade,   "Geschichte    Israels,"    306   «., 

307  n. 
Stagnation,  social,  3. 
States,  ancient,  cause  of  ruin  of,  3. 
Stoicism,  career  of,  41;  not  a  popular  re- 
ligion, 41;  idea  of  spirituality  of  God 
in,  88,  89;  influence  of,  on  Jews,  97, 
S86;   influence  of,  on  Philo,  112,  114; 
trace   of,    in  Fourth  Gospel,  218  n.  ; 
Pharisaic,  252;   in  Palestine,  260;  in 
Antigonus,  201. 
Storm  and  stress,  period  of,  236. 
Subordination  of  woman,  210. 
Succa,  273. 

Suffering,   question   of,  1C6;   vicarious, 
166  ;  atonement  by,  222,  353  ;  national, 
ethical  training  of,  309;    Jewish,  re- 
ligious effect  of,  319  ;   as  leading  to 
triumph,  352. 
Suffering  Messiah  in  Talmud,  330  n. 
Sun-worship,  Kssenian,  256. 
Supernatural,  the,  in  history  of  Messiah, 

360. 
Sympathy,  in  N.  T.  ethics,  300. 
Synagogue,  the,  religious  effect  of,  87,  88. 
Synagogue,  the  great,  135,  246. 
Synagogues,  231. 
Syncretism  in  ancient  pantheons,  10;  in 

Islam,  Christianit3',  Juitaism,  11. 
Synoptics,   the,  divine    justice   in,   83; 
fatherhood  of  God  in,  84;  idea  of  di- 
vine spirit  in,  94  ;  idea  of  wisdom  in, 
102;    baptism  in,   348;    Messianic  an- 
nouncement in,  350  ;   final  judgment 
in,   355,  356;  judgment  bv  Jesus  in, 
3.55,  3.56;    date  of,  358;  eschatology 
of,  360;  apocalypse  in,  363;  resurrec- 
tion in,  393,  394;  Messiah  as  judge  in, 
399;  signs  of  Messiah's  appearance  in, 
402;  faith  in  Jesus  in,  421. 
Syria,  Paul  in,  427. 
Syrophoenician  woman,  the,  345. 


Tabu,  its  relation  to  ethics,  16  w. 

Talmud,  the,  hvpostalizing  tendency  in, 
90  ra.,  91  «.,"93  n.\  its  use  of  O.  T., 
137;  magic  in,  142;  angels  in.  149; 
demons  in,  169 ;  fusion  of  civil  and 
religious  codes  in,  237;  detailed  pre- 
scriptions of,  243;  imputation  in,  273; 
pre-existence  of  Messiah  in,  326;  suf- 
fering Messiah  in,  330  n.\  calling 
of  Messiah  by  God  in,  357;    Messiah 


456 


INDEX  OF   SUBJECTS. 


as  judge  in,  357;  Gog  and  Magog  in, 
o74«.;  resurrection  in,  394  ;  national- 
ism in,  396;  future  probation  in,  412. 

Tares,  parable  of,  348  n. 

Targuni  of  Jonathan,  280. 

Targunis,  the,  suffering  Messiah  in, 3.30  m. 

Tartarus,  400  n. 

Teaching'  of  Jesus,  whether  esoteric, 
347. 

Temple-service,  ethical  aspect  of,  190. 

Teniptatiun  in  Eden,  195  H. 

Teiiderness,  ethiciil,  of  Jesus,  301. 

'I'heocratic  idea.  non-Jewish,  303. 

Theol.  Jahre-bericht,  302  n. 

Theopompus,  on  resurrection,  391. 

Therapeutse,  the,  255  n. 

Tiamat,  152,  158,  162,  200  n. 

Tigris-valley,  as  Persian  centre,  392. 

Timothy,  I'irst  Epistle  to,  faith  ni,  434. 

Tobit,  book  of,  evil  spirit  in,  108; 
conception  of  sin  in,  192  n. 

Tora.     See  Law. 

Torment,  future,  whether  in  0.  T.,  379. 

To'emism,  Hebrew,  141  n. 

Tov,  "Quotations,"  163  n.;  on  prose- 
lyte-baptism, 3.34  n. 

Tradition,  as  interpreter  of  Jesus,  359. 

Transformation,  moral,  in  N.  T.,  285. 

Translation,  origin  of  idea  of,  204  ti. 

Transmigration  of  souls,  390. 

Tree  of  life,  201,  205  w. 

Trichotomy,  not  in  Bible,  180-182. 


Tvk 


litive  Culture,"  199  n. 


Unbelief,  the  sin  of  the  world,  21(5. 

Underworld,  the,  in  O.  T.,  381  ;  Baby- 
lonian, 882. 

Unity,  geographical,  as  condition  of 
spread  of  a  religion,  37  ;  early  .Jewish, 
308  ;  ethical,  Roman,  337 ;  effected  by 
Christianity,  371. 

Universality,  prophetic  religious,  313, 
314  ;  of  Jewish  national  aim,  319;  at- 
tempted, of  John  Bnptist,  336  ;  of 
membership,  in  the  Church,  306. 

Uprisings,  Jewish,  344. 


Vernes,  "  Hist,  des  Iddes  Mess.," 
335  n. 

Vicarious  righteousness,  273-275. 

Vicarious  suffering,  223;  relation  of 
Jesus  to,  420. 

Virtue,  Antigonus'  view  of,  260. 

Vischer,  on  N.  T.  A))ocalypse,  375  n. 

Vision,  prophetic  and  apocalvptii',  03. 

Visions,  apocalyptic,  historical  interpre- 
tations of,  376. 


AVai:bukton,  "Divine  Leg.  cf  Moses,'' 
382  n. 

Water  as  male  and  female,  162  n. 

Wavikra  Kabba,  2-52  n. 

Weber,  "  Svsteni,"  91  n.,  93  n.,  142  «., 
149  n.,  101  74.,  109  «.,  198  n.,  252  «., 
273  n.,  280  n.,  326  m.,  329  n.,  330  n., 
357  71.,  363  n..  374  n.,  394.  399,  409. 

Weiss,  "N.  T.  Theol.,"  302  n. 

Welihausen,  "  Pharisiier  u.  Sadducaer," 
249  «.;   "Hist,  of  Israel,"  300  n. 

Wicked,  the,  82. 

Will,  hunian,  how  viewed  bv  Paul,  214; 
ethical  power  of,  222. 

Winer,  "lieal-WoilerUuch,"  249  w. 

Wi.-dom,  pre-Christian  Jewish  concep- 
tion of,  38.5,  386. 

Wisdom-books,  moral  position  of,  327. 

Wisdom  of  Solomon,  classic  character 
of,  52;  religious  tone  of,  00;  provi- 
dence in,  79,  80;  fatherhood  of  God 
in,  84;  man's  relation  to  God  in,  87; 
idea  of  divine  spirit  in,  92;  idea  of 
wisdom  in,  100;  personification  of 
word  in,  105,  100 ;  conception  of  sin 
in,  192,  205;  view  of  body  in,  219; 
atonement  for  sin  in,  231;  immoitaiity 
in,  251 ;  wisdom  a  divine  ideal  in, 
278;  salvation  in,  279;  immortality 
in,  378  ;  ethical  progress  in,  397;  eth- 
ical-religious elevation  of,  417. 

Witchcraft,  171. 

Wogue,  "  Histoire  de  la  Bible,"  132  n. 

Woman,  subordmation  of,  to  man,  153  ; 
role  assigned  to,  by  Hebrews,  210  n. 

World,  deadness  of,  210;  moral  corrup- 
tion of,  218. 

World-religion,  announced  bv  Jesus, 
349. 


Xenophon,  "Anabasis,"  409  n. 


Yaiuve.  name,  abandonment  of,  32; 
Jewish  lovaltj'  to,  305  ;  his  covenant 
with  Israel,  306,  307;  as  judge,  397, 
398. 

Yahwe-cult,  origin  of,  300  n. 


ZAnoK,  200  n. 

Zadokites,  254  n. 

Zechariah,  Satan  of,  107. 

Zeller,  on  Cireek  philosophy,  387  n. 

Zerubbabel,  Davidic  prince,  316. 

Zeus,  as  judge,  395. 

Zoroaster,  his  relation  to  Mazdeism,  25. 

Zoroastriaii  resurrection,  39J. 


Date  Due 

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MR  22 '5^ 

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